From Russia with LoVe
by XinAiRen
Summary: Veronica returns from her FBI internship. Logan and the Russian mafia wait for her in Neptune, Keith tries to find a missing girl, and a small surprise awaits Dick. Picks up a couple months after series finale. First FanFic! Please read & review!
1. Chapter 1

From Russia with LoVe-

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Coming to the FBI party tonight?"

Veronica Mars looked up from her computer screen. Peering over the wall of her cubicle was Jasmine Avila, Veronica's friend, roommate, and fellow intern in the FBI's Criminal Investigative Division for the past nine weeks. Besides the dark pantsuit that was standard uniform at the bureau, Jasmine was wearing a huge grin.

"The FBI party?" Veronica pretended to be confused, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. "And this whole time I thought we were working for the NSA. I just can't keep all these damn letters straight!"

Jasmine laughed. "FBI, as in 'Fucked Beyond Imagination' party. All the interns are meeting at O'Rourk's Pub in Foggy Bottom after work. It's Friday night and this is our last weekend in DC, girlfriend! We've got to live it up, party down, make some noise-"

"Get jiggy with it?"

"You know it."

"I'll be there. I just need to finish up a couple things before the weekend officially kicks off."

"Don't be too late. I need you there in case those mouth-breathers from Cyber Crimes try hitting on me again."

Veronica smirked. "What, all that talk of de-fragging your hard drive didn't totally turn you on?"

"Seven o'clock. Be there. And wear something nice!" Jasmine commanded as she continued down the row of cubicles, presumably to spread the word among their fellow interns.

Veronica smiled and turned back to her monitor. Although she missed Neptune, in truth she was going to be sorry to leave the FBI. When she had arrived nine weeks ago, the bureau had placed her in the Criminal Investigation Division's public corruption unit. The special agents in her squad handled everything from bribes to embezzlement. Veronica felt especially lucky she'd been assigned to Assistant Director Jack Krieg. AD Krieg had made a point to give Veronica some actual investigative work, reviewing her methodology and offering advice whenever she ran into obstacles.

Veronica's email notification dinged. Speaking of AD Krieg… his note was brief. "See me immediately."

_Well that sounds ominous_, Veronica thought.

The CID was housed on the fifth floor of the J. Edgar Hoover Building. Weaving through the maze of industrial gray cubicles all identical to hers, Veronica wondered what was so urgent. She paused in front of the door to Krieg's private office. Carefully, she patted her hair to make sure no strays had escaped the professional twist she'd pinned up this morning. Veronica knocked on the AD's door and quickly straightened her jacket.

"Enter." Veronica didn't hesitate, even though she had butterflies in her stomach. Krieg didn't sound happy.

Fleetingly, Veronica wondered how many years it takes the average agent to escape the cubicle jungle and land an office with real walls and even a window. Unlike her tiny metal desk covered in decades of graffiti, Krieg's desk was huge and made from some expensive wood like mahogany or teak.

_It's not about size, Veronica,_ she reminded herself. She closed the door and stepped forward.

Usually Krieg's desk was spotless, but tonight he had a file spread open. As she approached her supervisor, Veronica's eyes flicked to the dossier photo sitting on top of the file. Her heart rate ratcheted up a notch when she saw her own smiling face looking back at her. Why was Krieg reviewing her file?

"Sit."

He gestured to chair nearest Veronica. She immediately did as she was told, but sat forward in her seat anxiously. The shades were drawn over the window, and the only light came from Krieg's reading lamp. A man sat in the dark corner behind Krieg's desk. Veronica didn't know him, and he made no move to introduce himself. They stared at one another for several seconds before Veronica turned back to AD Krieg.

"Sir, you wanted to see me?"

Krieg looked up from Veronica's file and sighed. He appeared unhappy as he removed his reading glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose.

"Ms. Mars, you've been with us for two months. During that time, you've demonstrated an exemplary talent for investigative crime fighting. Am I correct in assuming that given the opportunity, you would be interested in a career with the Federal Bureau of Investigation?" Krieg replaced the glasses on his nose and glared fiercely over the rims.

Veronica was confused. "Sir, are you offering me a job? Or is this an interrogation for the Committee on Un-American Activities? I swear I did not have sexual relations with that woman."

Krieg's expression softened. "I'm sorry, Veronica. I'm being rude. You've been doing an outstanding job for us here. In fact, if it hadn't been for the report I wrote raving about your potential with the bureau, this idea probably wouldn't have been suggested in the first place." Krieg gave a mirthless laugh and rubbed his hand over his bald head in obvious anguish.

"Sir?"

The man in the shadows spoke. "Ms. Mars, we are planning a sting operation and we need your help. While AD Krieg has been highly complementary of your work, he is reluctant to send an intern into the field without any formal training. And I would be inclined to agree with him, if it weren't for your impressive record as a private investigator."

Krieg gestured to his colleague. "Veronica, this is Assistant Director Keller with the organized crime unit."

Organized crime. They dealt with some serious shit on a day to day basis. _This could be a hell of a lot more dangerous than catching IRS agents trading tax credits for free swag and hookers,_ thought Veronica.

"What exactly do you need me for?" she asked.

Assistant Director Keller leaned forward and asked, "Do you know a Gorya Sorokin at Hearst College?"


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER TWO**

"Who's your daddy?"

Veronica ran to her father's waiting arms. "You are!" she laughed.

Same old Neptune. Veronica had flown into the San Diego airport and was met by her dad, dressed in regular civvies. Not surprisingly, acting Sherriff Keith Mars had not been re-elected in the May special election.

Keith wasn't worried. They'd made it as private investigators before, and they'd do it again. "Besides, with Vinnie elected Sherriff, Mars Investigations was officially the only PI firm in town," Keith had pointed out. "We'll be up to our armpits in cheating spouses and bail-jumpers."

"Yuck, remind me to switch to a better brand of deodorant," Veronica had quipped. Still, she felt guilty. She had never intended that her investigation of the Castle and Jake Kane would put Keith in a compromising position. Thanks to her, Keith had been forced to choose between obeying the law or saving his daughter. Yes they could make a living as PI's, but her dad loved serving as Sherriff.

As they drove back to Neptune, Keith chatted about recent cases and local gossip. Veronica laughed and joked with her dad, but silently she vowed to do whatever she could to repay his sacrifice.

********

Hearst College was abuzz with students moving onto campus. Freshman said eager or tearful farewells to their parents, and returning students greeted friends after a long summer apart.

Piz opened the door just as Veronica raised her hand to knock. The stood frozen in place for a moment, neither sure what to say.

Veronica spoke first, lowering her hand to her side. "Um, hey. Good to see you. So how was your summer?"

They hadn't officially ended their relationship, but Piz hadn't called Veronica the entire ten weeks she was in Washington DC. Nor had he responded to her emails.

Piz crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively. He glanced down the hall like he was evaluating the quickest escape route. "Summer. Summer was good. Yeah. Heard a lot of good bands. You'll probably hear some on my radio show this fall." He uncrossed his arms and shoved both hands deep into his jeans pockets.

Veronica sighed internally. So they were going to go the shy and socially painful route. Alright then. "Yeah. Awesome. Glad you had a good summer. So… is Wallace here? I heard he was moving in today."

"Hey Superfly, how you been?" Wallace shouldered past Piz and gave Veronica a giant bear hug, swinging her around in a circle. He set her down and started frisking her jacket pockets.

Veronica's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he patted down her hips. "Gee Wallace, if I'd known you were so starved for affection I would have hurried here sooner."

"Just wondering what kind of heat you're packing, now that you're a big-shot with the FBI. Did they give you a license to kill? Did you shoot anybody?"

Veronica laughed and pushed his hands away. "Only with rubber bands. Sorry to disappoint, but most of my internship was spent behind a desk."

"A desk? That's too bad. Just look at how tan I got after a summer under the hot African sun." Wallace held out his arm for her to admire.

Piz guffawed. "A tan. That's funny! Because you're black…" he trailed off into an awkward silence and crossed his arms again.

Veronica shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well… glad you're back, Wallace. Listen, I was wondering if you guys wanted to check out the Pi Sig party tonight?"

"And by check out, I'm guessing you mean stakeout?" Wallace asked skeptically. "Veronica, classes haven't even started yet and you're already working on a case?"

"Could I tempt you with fake IDs, courtesy of a joint ATF/FBI workshop on identity theft?"

Wallace grabbed the proffered card gleefully. "Damn girl, I would have been happy with a t-shirt!"

"Think of this as the gift that keeps on giving."

*************

"Wallace!" The basketball team shouted an enthusiastic chorus of greetings to their teammate as Veronica and her friends walked in the door of the Pi Sigma Theta house.

"Hey playas, what's happening?" Wallace called back. To Veronica he said, "I'm going to go catch up with my boys."

"Yeah, yeah, go join your tribe of freakishly tall mutants," Veronica called after him.

Mac and Piz looked uncomfortable. "I'm getting a beer," Mac stated.

"I'll come with you," added Piz quickly.

Veronica was left alone. Again.

"Ronnie! Hey babe, if you're looking for another rich boyfriend to psychologically scar this semester, I'm available."

Dick Cassablancas was seated on a sagging couch with his arm around a girl. She was swaying even though she seated, obviously hammered. Her breasts far larger than anything God had intended. Dick was wearing a t-shirt with big, yellow letters proclaiming "I'M WITH STUPID." An arrow pointed straight down to his crotch. Same old Dick.

Logan Echolls sat next to his buddy but didn't say anything. A cast covered his right hand, and he held a beer in his left.

"What happened to you?" Veronica asked.

Logan smiled sardonically. "Oh this?" he asked, waving his plaster-encased appendage. "It's nothing. Just a minor altercation with some very aggressive mimes. You know how much I hate mimes."

"Apparently the feeling is mutual."

Logan didn't answer, so Veronica turned away. He grabbed her arm. "Be careful."

Veronica stared searchingly into his brown eyes for more information, but Logan abruptly let go and melted into the crowd.

The party was in full swing. Music blared from giant speakers, the deep bass reverberating in the floorboards. The house was sweltering, and sweating bodies were everywhere in various states of undress.

Veronica spotted her target just as he was slipping out the back door of the Pi Sig house. Gorya "Gory" Sorokin was alone.

_Bingo_, she thought. Veronica pushed her way through the crowd of drunken revelers and stepped out into the cool night air. The Pi Sig house backed onto a narrow alley shared with other fraternities and run-down student rentals. The ground was covered in cigarette butts and broken glass, evidence of parties past. There was a strong scent of urine.

_Why do men feel the need to mark their territory like stray dogs?_ Veronica wondered. She didn't see Gory, so she hustled to catch up. As she approached the alley entrance, there was still no sign of him. Suddenly, a hand shot out from behind a dumpster, covering her mouth and muffling her surprised scream.

"Now why are you sneaking around in the dark, Cheerleader? Looking for more front-page news, or do you have an appointment for your next x-rated close-up with a video camera?" Gory snarled. "I am excellent with a video camera," he whispered in her ear lasciviously.

Veronica thrashed and kicked with as much force as she could muster, but Gory had her pinned too tightly. She bit down hard on his hand and tasted blood. Gory screamed in pain and flung her into some trash bins.

Veronica was momentarily stunned by the impact, but quickly reached for her taser. Gory saw what she was after and dove into the debris, wrestling her for the weapon. "Uh-uh, Veronica. You're not zapping me again with your little toy."

He twisted the taser out of her grasp and hurled it down the alley, far out of reach. He straddled Veronica's body, using his weight to keep her in place while his hands encircled her neck. "You didn't answer my question," he growled. "Why are you following me?"

But Veronica couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. She clawed at Gory's hands around her throat. The edges of her vision turned black and yellow spots danced behind her eyelids. From nowhere, a hulking shape hurtled out of the darkness and slammed into Gory, sending Veronica's attacker flying onto the pavement.

Veronica gasped, sucking the stale air into her lungs gratefully. She scrambled to shakily to her feet, grabbing the nearby chain-link fence for support. Logan had Gory on the ground, straddling him like Gory had done to Veronica just seconds before.

"You stay the FUCK away from her! Just keep the FUCK AWAY," Logan roared. He emphasized each word by slamming his fist into Gory's face.

Veronica seized the opportunity to pick up Gory's cell phone from where it had fallen in the trash heap. Popping off the back, she inserted a small chip behind the battery and replaced the cover. She surreptitiously dropped the phone as she knelt next to Logan, still pounding Gory to a pulp. She laid her hand on Logan's bicep.

"Logan, stop!" she pleaded. "That's enough. Stop now."

Logan paused mid-swing. Rage burned in his eyes and his breathing was ragged. Veronica could see Wallace and Piz running up the alley towards them. "That's enough," she repeated.

"You asshole," Gory groaned. He glared at Logan through rapidly swelling eyes. Blood poured down his face; his lip was split, and Veronica guessed his nose was broken. "You just wait until my Uncle Lev-"

Logan grabbed Gory's shirt and slammed the back of his head into the pavement until the young Russian was unconscious. Logan got up and brushed dirt off his ripped shirt and jeans. A small crowd had piled out of the neighboring houses to witness the fight.

Logan clutched his broken right hand. "Shit!" He yelled, wincing in pain. The plaster cast had cracked and was barely hanging together. Several pieces lay on the ground near Gory's head.

"Come on , I'll take you to the hospital." Veronica took Logan's good arm and tried to steer him towards the street and her waiting car, but he wouldn't budge.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Nothing an icepack and a long shower won't cure. You, on the other hand, need x-rays. And a good psychiatrist."

"I told you to be careful."

Veronica looked thoughtfully at Gory's prone form and back to Logan. "Those mimes you were telling me about… they didn't happen to have Russian accents, did they?"

"Like good mimes, there wasn't much talking involved. But yeah, I guess there might have been a _dasvidanya_ slipped into the conversation somewhere."

Logan shrugged Veronica's hand off his shoulder and walked back into the crowd. A couple guys moved forward and bent to pick up Gory from the ground. One scooped up the cell phone and put it in Gory's jacket pocket.

As Logan shuffled past, he shoved Piz and growled, "You're supposed to take care of her, jackass."

Piz flinched and held his breath, waiting for the inevitable blow. Logan, however, glanced back at Veronica and kept walking.

Veronica watched him go. _My knight in black armor,_ she thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER THREE**

Veronica's plan had been to follow Gorya Sorokin back to wherever he was living, then scope out the place to see what she could learn. That would obviously have to wait now that she was on his radar, but at least she'd been able to plant the bug in Gory's phone. She was willing to bet that the first call Gory made would be to his mafia-connected uncle, Lev Sorokin.

AD Keller had instructed Veronica to gather information about the Sorokin family and evidence of their criminal activities. Veronica was to check in with her FBI handlers at least once a week to pass along her findings. Two agents from the Organized Crime unit had been assigned to set up the sting, and to protect Veronica in case things got too intense. So where had her guardian angels been tonight, she wondered?

Wallace walked Veronica to her car parked down the street from the Pi Sigma Theta house. "So are you going to tell me, your best friend in the whole wide world, why you almost got yourself killed walking down a dark alley tonight? I know you, Veronica Mars. You are not that stupid. So what's this new case you're working on?"

More than anything, Veronica wished she could tell Wallace the whole story. AD Keller, however, had sworn her to secrecy. "It's for your own protection," he had said.

Wallace was still waiting for an answer. "You know me," Veronica said lightly. "Trouble just seems to follow me like the proverbial gangsta penny."

Veronica took out her switchblade and slashed the air menacingly. "Those pennies think they so bad. But I cut them good."

"So this has nothing to do with a case?"

"Nope. Just a case of bad timing."

They stopped at Veronica's car and Wallace shook his head. "I know you're lying to me, V. But it's okay. I'll be here when you need me." He closed the car door for Veronica and strolled back towards the fraternity party.

Veronica sat in her car, biting her bottom lip as she watched him go. She was touched. _What a mensch_, she thought.

*******

Veronica pulled up in front of her apartment building well after midnight. The dark courtyard was lit only by the underwater floodlights from the pool. The rippling shadows were eerie. Veronica was already on edge from her close encounter with Gory Sorokin. Her adrenaline-charged mind saw menacing figures in every dancing silhouette.

She recalled Gory's taped confession she had stolen from the Castle's files.

"_One night I see my dad and my Uncle Lev pull a couple bodies out of the trunk. And they are bloody as hell. So they drag the bodies into the workshop, and I hear the power saw going." Gory laughed. "I always wondered why my dad put a woodshop up in the cabin. The next thing you know, he and Uncle Lev are taking a couple Hefty bags down to the boat."_

Veronica shivered, but it wasn't from the chill night air. As she approached the stairs, she took a moment peek underneath and verify that the mobsters she saw lurking there were really just a figment of her imagination.

Satisfied, she turned to head upstairs but tall, looming figure suddenly materialized directly in front of her.

Veronica gasped in surprised and grabbed for her taser, the second time that evening.

"Whoa there, just relax." The man stepped forward into the shimmering blue light. Veronica's shoulders sagged in relief. It was Ben Schuler, one of the agents assigned to her. His partner appeared from around the corner, holstering her weapon as she approached.

"All clear. No sign of a tail." Special Agent Tess Rosenswag stated. Agent Rosenswag was petite, barely taller than Veronica. With her blond hair and youthful face, Rosenswag could've passed as Veronica's older sister.

"Great, I'm _so_ glad you're here now that I'm _not_ in mortal danger. I thought the FBI left late-night donut runs to the cops." Veronica didn't try to disguise the pique in her voice.

Rosenswag shrugged nonchalantly, a malicious twinkle in her eye. "We were around. We thought we'd see how well you could handle yourself in an aggressive situation. You might want to invest in some self defense classes."

_And people call me a bitch_, Veronica thought.

Schuler, on the other hand, had a no-nonsense personality that Veronica found reassuring in a bodyguard. "We observed Mr. Echolls approaching. It seemed unnecessary to reveal ourselves." He gestured upstairs. "Your father is away on business for the evening. Let's move indoors."

They trooped up the steps and Veronica let the agents into her apartment. Backup, the Mars family pit bull, came charging into the living room barking madly. "Backup, chill!" Veronica commanded. The dog growled softly but retreated to a corner.

Agent Rosenswag helped herself to a glass of orange juice from the refrigerator while Schuler took a seat on the sofa. Veronica went to her room and retrieved her laptop. She settled on the couch next to Schuler.

"The bug I planted in Gory's phone is voice activated," she explained. "Any calls he makes will be automatically recorded and stored on a secure website." Veronica showed Schuler how to log in and access the MP3 files created by the bug.

There was a file waiting in the queue. Veronica opened it and turned up the volume so the agents could hear.

"_Uncle Lev, it's Gorya. I'm at the hospital thanks to that shithead Logan Echolls. Send Vadim and Yury to pick me up, will you? That fucking Hollywood asshole needs another reminder that you don't mess with the Sorokins. Maybe this time we'll break his other hand AND his kneecaps." Gory voice was acid._

_Lev Sorokin's gravelly voice answered back. "Gorya, I don't have time for your schoolyard bullshit right now. You clean up your own messes, my men have work to do."_

"_He broke my nose-"_

"_You break his face after next week's shipment. Meanwhile, you don't do nothing stupid. Nothing that will bring the heat on us, yes?"_

"_Yes, uncle."_

"_Good boy."_

"_Uncle Lev, could I borrow some of the merchandise from your next shipment? My friends are throwing a party, and I thought I'd give them a surprise."_

_The mob kingpin hesitated a moment, but consented. "Alright Gorya, you come to the warehouse and take your pick. But only you, don't bring none of your friends."_

"_Thank you, uncle."_ The recording ended.

The agents began an animated discussion. "These shipments must be how the Sorokins finance their operations," Rosenswag said.

Schuler nodded in agreement. "It sounds like the next one is happening soon." He turned to Veronica. "You should continue to track Gorya's movements and report back if you hear any further details. We need to know specifics for the shipment- where and when- as well as what exactly it is they are transporting."

He patted Veronica on the back and stood to leave. "Excellent work, Ms. Mars."

Veronica smiled thinly as the agents departed, but inside she was writhing with anxiety. The FBI didn't seem to care much that Logan had a big target painted on his back. Gory Sorokin wasn't exactly the forgive and forget type. Veronica would have to make sure Gory was taken out of the picture with the rest of his family, or Logan would surely pay the price for his chivalry.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Veronica sat in the same seat she had occupied last year in this room. Two criminology instructors, both criminals themselves. She wondered who her new professor would be. Her schedule read simply: "Introduction to Law Enforcement. Instructor TBA."

She wondered idly if Eli Navarro, AKA "Weevil" would be up to the task. After all, he was a convicted criminal and ex-leader of the notorious PCH bike gang. Personally, Veronica felt it would be an improvement to have a criminology instructor who was honest about his own criminal history.

She smiled a little bit to herself at the thought of tough, tattooed Weevil lecturing her classmates on the finer points of law enforcement. If Dean O'Dell were still alive, he might have given Weevil the position. Cyrus always had a healthy sense of irony like that.

The bell rang and dark-suited figure marched through the doors and down the steps to the front of the lecture hall. Veronica sat up straighter in her seat. _This might be an interesting course after all, _she thought.

"Hello class," began their new instructor. "I'm Professor Schuler. Welcome to Introduction to Law Enforcement."

Agent Schuler of the FBI winked conspiratorially at Veronica as he deposited a course syllabus in front of her.

_More like Introduction to Undercover Work,_ Veronica amended privately. She scanned the list of required reading and flipped to the next page.

"_You will not be approached outside this room except for emergencies,"_ Schuler had written in the margin. "_Pass vital intelligence using your weekly homework assignment."_

Huh. And all her other teachers told her it was bad to pass notes in class. What a bunch of liars.

**********

Keith Mars had been busy all afternoon. First he ate lunch. Then he perfected his wastepaper basket jump shot with an entire pad of yellow legal paper. Then he sharpened every single pencil in a new box of fifty, lining them up on his desk in perfect rows. He was studying his face in the back of a spoon and considering whether he ought to grow a mustache when he heard the bell on the outer office door tinkle.

Keith quickly swept the pencils and spoon into a desk drawer and stooped down to cram the wads of paper littering the floor into the overflowing trashcan. The visitor knocked on Keith's door. The PI, in his exuberance to greet a potential new client, whacked his head on the underside of the desk. Swearing under his breath, Keith straightened up more cautiously.

The young woman before him smiled politely and extended her hand. "You are Keith Mars?" she inquired. She had a strong accent, but spoke clearly.

"That's me," Keith said sheepishly. He shook the proffered hand then gestured towards the mismatched chairs in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat Miss… ?"

"Natasha Denisovitch."

"Ms. Denisovitch. What can I do for you?"

Natasha hesitated as if unsure where to begin. Her eyes widened with helplessness and sorrow, and Keith thought she might cry. Instead, she took a deep breath and pulled a photo out of her handbag. She handed it to him. "My sister, Sivya."

"She's a lovely girl." It was true. Both Sivya and Natasha shared flaxen blond hair, vivid blue eyes, and an enviable peaches and cream complexion.

"She's missing, Mr. Mars. I need to find her. I think she's in danger!" Natasha said passionately.

"What makes you say that?" Keith glanced at the photo again, then handed it back to his client.

She shook her head. "No, no, you keep it," she insisted. "I have many photographs of Sivya. That's why she decided to come to America. She loves the camera."

"She came here to be a model?"

"An actress." Natasha snorted. "Some talent agent in Rybinsk saw her waiting tables and suddenly Hollywood was the only place she could ever be happy."

"So why not start there?"

"Because of this." She reached into her purse again and pulled out an envelope. She passed it across the desk to Keith.

The envelope did indeed bare a Neptune postmark, and the preprinted return address was for a large law firm in town. Keith opened the envelope and withdrew a piece of moderately priced stationary, also emblazoned with the firm's letterhead. The message, however, was handwritten and illegible.

"What is this?" Keith asked.

"Cyrillic. It is from Sivya. She says she is kidnapped and held against her will. She says-" Natasha faltered. "She says they make her do terrible things." A tear trickled down her cheek.

Keith handed her a tissue. "I'm happy to assist in the search, Ms. Denisovitch, but this sounds more like a police matter. Have you contacted the Sherriff?"

Natasha crumpled the tissue in her fist. "That man," she hissed, "is a baboon!"

"I think you mean buffoon."

"He tells me he has no time for runaway starlets, especially when they are in the country illegally. He says to contact him when Sivya wishes to be deported."

Keith nodded knowingly. "You shouldn't take it personally. Vinnie Van Lowe isn't mean-spirited, he's just lazy." He studied the letter but couldn't make heads or tails of the strange Cyrillic characters. "Did Sivya say anything about where she was being held? Anything that might help us find her?"

"No, nothing. Only that she was sorry she hadn't listened to me, and-" a small sob wracked her chest. "-and that I should hurry."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Veronica finished her last class of the day by 3pm. She headed back to the offices of Mars Investigations to see what her dad was up to. She worried about him. Despite his assurances that they would be flooded with clients now that Vinnie was Sheriff Vinnie, Keith seemed to have an awful lot of free time. Maybe it was time for some father-daughter bonding time at the zoo. My, how that man did love him some monkeys!

Veronica jumped in her Saturn parked outside the Hearst Student Union Building. She was grateful for the reliable way the Saturn would start every time on the first try, and especially grateful for the air conditioning. But on a gorgeous SoCal day like today, she was a little nostalgic for her old drop-top Le Baron.

_Let it go, Veronica_, she chided herself. She rolled the window down anyway.

To her surprise, Keith wasn't in the office when she arrived. His note was encouraging, however.

"_New client- I'll fill you in over dinner tonight. No soup! Love ya."_

She rolled her eyes and wadded up the note. She scored a perfect three-point shot into the wastebasket. Her makeshift ball settled precariously onto an already teetering mountain of paper scraps. Huh. She had just emptied that yesterday.

She shrugged and settled down at her desk. Immediately she logged into the secure website monitoring Gory Sorokin's phone calls. There were at least a dozen new recordings, and she listened patiently to all of them. Nothing vital. Lots of party plans. Two different girls calling to arrange an evening with Gory, obviously unaware of the others' existence. Amanda and Stacy. Veronica wrote down the names, just in case it became useful to track them down later.

Suddenly, an alert popped up on her screen. SUBJECT MOVING!

The bug she had planted in Gory's phone also had a GPS locater. Obviously, Gory had decided to venture off campus. Veronica pulled up the interactive map function and watched Gory's small dot move past the nearby grocery store and several fast food restaurants. He was headed straight for the shipping yard. Not just a case of the munchies, then. Something to do with the mysterious shipment Lev Sorokin had discussed the night before with his nephew?

Veronica hesitated only a moment, then grabbed her keys and purse.

************

Veronica cruised by the gated chain link fence surrounding the warehouse. According to her GPS locater, Gory Sorokin was inside that warehouse. A shiny black BMW was parked outside the building, looking out of place. That had to be Gory's car. And the two thugs milling aimlessly in the yard, they had to be guards, despite their token attempts to look like regular longshoremen.

Getting in could be a problem. The warehouse was built out over the water on a pier. The only way in by land was a twelve-foot chain link fence, topped by razor wire and patrolled by armed guards. The other three sides of the building were surrounded by water.

Veronica continued past the building and parked out of sight around a corner. She slung her school bag over her shoulder. Instead of books, it was now filled with heavy tools and other equipment. She crept towards the fence, keeping Gory's shiny sports car between her and the guards. They were smoking and laughing, not really paying much attention to the quiet street.

Veronica fished in her pocket and pulled out a nickel. She tossed it against the fence, which it bounced off harmlessly. The fence wasn't electrified. When would these guys learn?

She rummaged in her bag for the heavy bolt cutters she kept in the car. Near the bottom of the fence, she cut a small window in the chain link. Trying not to make too much noise, she rolled up the section of fencing like a window shade, crawled through, and unfurled it back to roughly its original position. There. Someone would have to look closely to see what she'd done.

A non-descript silver sedan drove by outside the fence. Veronica lay as flat as possible in the shade of the BMW. She heard one of the thugs in the yard ask his companion, "Didn't that guy already drive past here two minutes ago?"

"Better go check it out," Thug Two replied. Veronica breathed a sigh of relief as the cigarette butts were discarded and she watched the men's boots stroll away from her hiding spot.

Veronica dashed for the side of the building. There was just enough space for her to walk along the pier, under the high windows. Some old wooden crates were stacked along walls. Bingo_._

She cautiously scampered up her makeshift ladder, testing with each new foothold to make sure the rickety crates would support her weight. Finally, she was high enough to peer into the warehouse. It was cavernous and dimly let by a few small grungy windows like hers. Many had been broken and boarded up. What she _could_ see were the rusting hulks of heavy cranes and other machinery. And lots of shipping crates, sitting in the middle of the floor waiting to be unpacked. Did the shipment arrive early, Veronica wondered? What was in the boxes? She pulled out her camera and zoomed in on the crates, but she couldn't tell what was inside. She'd have to go inside for a closer look.

Veronica stowed her camera in the bag and climbed higher. She shoved on the old window, using her full weight to push it open. The rusty hinges squeaked in protest. Veronica ducked down and waited to see if anyone came running.

The sun was setting over the water, casting dazzling orange rays and deep purple shadows over the docks. Veronica listened intently, but there was no sign that her position had been compromised. She raised her head over the windowsill. The coast was clear.

She slid headfirst into the open window. Despite her petite frame and lithe figure, it was still a tight squeeze. She pulled one foot inside, straddling the window ledge. Maneuvering carefully high above the warehouse floor, she twisted her body and moved to pull her other foot inside. Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed her ankle still outside the window.

Veronica gasped with surprise and nearly toppled off her perch. The hand grasped her leg more firmly and tried to drag her outside. Veronica attempted to kick her attacker, but she couldn't get much leverage from her precarious position. Even so, she felt her foot make contact with her assailant's head.

"Ouch!" he hissed. Why did that voice sound so familiar? "Veronica, knock it off. You'll make us both fall!"

"Logan?!"

He let go of her ankle and rose up onto the crates so she could see him. With his good hand, he rubbed his chin where she had kicked him. His other hand was encased in a fresh cast, a reminder of his fight with Gory behind the Pi Sigma Sigma house. "What do you think you're doing?" He whispered fiercely.

Veronica was bewildered at his sudden appearance. "What the hell do you think _you're_ doing? How did you get here?"

Logan dropped his hand from his chin and averted his gaze.

"Were you following me?!"

"No! Well, yes," he amended, "but only to make sure you were alright. And instead I find you breaking into the Sorokins' warehouse! Are you crazy? They will kill you if you're caught here!"

"Don't try to change the subject! How long have you been following me? Why didn't I see your yellow X-Terra?" Veronica's eyes widened in understanding. "You were in the silver sedan that was cruising by when I cut the fence!"

"I rented it," Logan explained defiantly. "I knew you'd spot the X-Terra."

"Logan, get it through your head! We are not dating. It is not okay for you to follow me around-"

"Yeah, well Piz doesn't seem to be doing a very good job watching out for you," Logan interrupted.

"Not that it's any of your business, but Piz and I haven't dated in months," Veronica fumed.

"Good."

Veronica was so angry she was speechless. Her mouth opened and shut like she wanted to say something, but couldn't find strong enough words to convey her emotions. "Ugh!" she finally snarled, and slid through the window, dropping onto the warehouse floor below.

Logan grinned and followed after her. At least, he tried to, but he had a difficult time squeezing his broad shoulders through the narrow opening. "Ronnie, I'm stuck!" He called softly.

Veronica ignored him and continued to inspect the crates stacked neatly in the middle of the floor. "What do you think is in these?" She wished she had thought to back a crowbar.

"Ronnie, I mean it! Give me a hand, would you?"

She looked up and saw him dangling helplessly from the window. She sighed and pushed some of the crates underneath him. Whatever was inside, it wasn't very heavy. She climbed up and tugged on his good hand while he attempted to wiggle free.

"I should leave you just like this," Veronica growled. "Hanging here like a piñata."

"We shoot piñatas in Russia," said a deep, accented voice from behind her.

Veronica whirled and saw a man in a well-tailored suit, holding a gun. It had a silencer. And it was pointed straight at her.

Logan immediately reversed direction and tried to back out the window. Veronica pushed his shoulders, and he fell onto the crates outside with a crash.

Thanks to the silencer, there was no sound as the man fired his weapon. But Veronica could see the small explosions of plaster and wood as each bullet impacted the wall and containers near her. She scrambled up and dove headlong through the window. Logan caught her in his arms before she hit the rough wooden pier outside.

"Thanks," she said breathlessly, the wind knocked out of her.

He didn't acknowledge her gratitude. "Let's go," he said. He set her down and they ran towards the hole in the fence.

They didn't make it that far. One of the thugs from the yard came around the corner, brandishing his weapon. Logan and Veronica skidded to a halt and sprinted for the other end of the pier. The rounded back of the building and peeked around the next corner. Thug Two was barreling down on them. A bullet turned plaster into dust where Logan's head had been just seconds before. Their exits were blocked!

"Lovely day for a swim," Logan remarked.

Veronica nodded and took his hand. "On the count of three," she instructed. "One-"

The armed guards flew around their respective corners, trapping their prey between them. "No time!" Logan shouted. He and Veronica jumped into the churning waves twenty feet below.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER SIX**

By unspoken consensus, Logan and Veronica ditched the rental car and rode together in her Saturn. They were soaked, cold, and exhausted when Veronica pulled into the Neptune Grand's underground garage. Veronica parked in an empty spot and turned off the ignition, but stayed in her seat.

Logan reached over and bushed a stray clump of wet hair from her cheek. She instinctively closed her eyes and leaned into his warm touch.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine," she answered mechanically. In truth, she was still shaking from their close brush with death.

Logan wasn't falling for her act. "Come upstairs. I still have some of your clothes. They may be _so_ last season, but at least they're dry." A small smile twitched uncertainly at the corners of his mouth.

Veronica knew her dad would have a lot of questions if she showed up looking like a drowned rat. Questions that she couldn't answer. National security sucked. Big time.

"What, you're saying I'm not ready for a night on the town?" A drop of water rolled off the end of her nose. Both she and Logan laughed and headed toward the elevator.

The doors slide shut with a soft chime. Logan shifted uncomfortably, his shoes squishing wetly. "Veronica, I-"

She didn't let him finish. In an instant, she was in his arms. They kissed passionately, fiercely all the way to his suite. They broke apart as he fumbled for his key. Thankfully, Dick wasn't home. They left a trail of wet clothing all the way to Logan's room.

Veronica and Logan fell enthusiastically into the soft bed, their arms and legs entwined. She kissed him, tasting the salty ocean on his lips. He was there for her, whenever she needed him. Even when she couldn't ask, Logan was there. Always.

He pulled away, holding her at arms' length. "Veronica," he panted. His chest heaved with emotion. "I love you."

She grinned. "I know."

********

Keith Mars found the law offices of Schiller, McThune, and Hobart, Esquire exactly where the yellow pages said they'd be. Their advertisement claimed they were the largest law firm in Neptune. Judging by the massive building, Keith felt confident there was still truth in advertising.

The question was, how was he going to determine which of these attorneys had been in contact with Sivya Denisovitch? And how could he find out without being sued for all his meager worldly possessions?

Keith rummaged in the glove compartment and pulled out a pair of thick glasses with heavy frames. He checked himself in the rearview mirror.

"Come on, Keith," he said to his reflection. "This one's for the Oscar. Eye on the prize."

A few deep breaths and he was out of the car. He entered the impressive marble lobby of Schiller, McThune, and Hobart and breezed past the security guards as if he own the place, waiving his PI license quickly under their noses. "Federal agent, step aside!" He barked.

The guards hesitated, exchanging confused glances. Keith did not pause. He marched straight up to the young receptionist. She half rose from her chair in alarm. "May I help you, Mister…?"

"It's Agent Blaine. Agent Richard Blaine, IRS. I'm here for the audit."

"Audit?"

Keith did an exaggerated double-take. "Are you kidding me? Are you seriously trying to say that despite _numerous_ notices, your firm is unable to comply with the United States Internal Revenue Service?" He shook his head in disgust and extracted a file from his briefcase. He scribbled notes frantically. "This is unbelievable. I have no choice but to report this to my superiors. What's your name?"

"Sir, we never received any notices-"

"Name!"

"K-Kim," she stuttered.

"Kim, you have exactly ten seconds to show me to your billing department. Otherwise, I'll have no choice but to label this law firm as non-compliant and set loose a team of highly trained tax investigators. We will inspect every paper and electronic document, every phone call coming in and out of this building. We will scrutinize the personal finances and expenditures of every employee." Keith tilted his head down and glared over the thick rims of his spectacles. "Would you like to explain this intrusion to your bosses, Kim?"

"N-n-no…"

"Billing department. Now."

She jumped up from her chair and scooted around the desk as though her skirt was on fire. Keith followed her past a series of well-appointed offices with plush carpeting and expensive furniture. The door at the end of the hall was closed, but Kim swiped her key card in front of the sensor and the lock disengaged with a soft click.

"All our billing information is here," she explained. Keith felt a little guilty hearing the tremor in her voice. But not guilty enough to back down.

The room was packed wall-to-wall with filing cabinets. There was just enough space to squeeze between the narrow rows. "All your client billings are accounted for? Every client your firm charges?"

Kim nodded affirmative, too scared to speak.

"We'll select a file at random. Show me to the D's. That's the grade I'd give you so far." Keith laughed viciously, his bad cop routine in full swing. For a moment he wondered if he were channeling the late Sherriff Don Lamb.

The young woman rushed to locate the proper drawer. "This one!" she exclaimed, unlocking the cabinet with shaking hands.

Keith yanked it open and flipped through the names. Deitrich. Denny. No Denisovitch. He pulled the file for "Donahue, Steven Q." and riffled through the pages. He pretended to study the figures, running his finger down the columns and muttering to himself.

"This seems to be in order." He crammed the file into the drawer and slammed it shut with a resounding crash. Kim jumped. "General expenditures are next. I'll need copies of all purchase orders for July." The postmark on Sivya's letter read July 17.

As Kim hustled to comply, Keith wracked his brain to think how Sivya might have gotten a letter through the firm's mail, on their stationary no less. "I'll need a complete list of all your employees. Everybody, right down to the night janitors," he barked. Kim nodded, frantically working the copy machine.

********

Veronica was lounging in front of the fire, curled up in Logan's oversized robe. He brought her a cup of hot tea and settled on the floor next to her, savoring her proximity. She had just showered, and he could still smell the soap on her skin.

He drew her near to him. "So are you going to tell me why you're investigating the Gory Sorokin? It's not about that tape is it?"

Instantly, Veronica's shoulders drew up defensively. "You can't keep following me, Logan. Not only is the case confidential, but stalking is a creepy trait in a boyfriend." She punched him lightly in the shoulder.

He laughed, thrilled to hear the term _boyfriend _applied to him again. "If you don't want me to follow you, then invite me along."

"Logan, I'm serious. You can't get mixed up in this."

"Those guys with guns were pretty serious, too."

Veronica bit her lip and stared hard at the dancing flames in the fireplace.

"Ronnie, I'm not going to let you do this by yourself. If you don't tell me what's going on, I'll… I'll…" he struggled to think of something that would sway her.

Veronica glanced at him, eyebrows arched. "You'll what?" She grinned. Logan, for all his toughness, was no threat to her. "You'll serenade me in the cafeteria with horribly embarrassing love songs? You'll write fake fan letters to all my idols in _Teen Vogue _magazine? You'll put my underwear in the freezer?"

"I'll tell your dad what happened at the warehouse today."

Instantly, Veronica's smile faded. "No! Logan, you can't tell him. He can't know. He'd go crazy, he'd be so worried…" she fretted.

"Then tell me why you're following Gory Sorokin."

She couldn't look in his eyes. Instead, she picked up his right hand and gently felt the cast. "You'll need to get a new one. This is mushy."

"Second cast in as many days. Tell me why." He lifted her chin and held her gaze. "I love you. Please let me help you."

He was relentless, she realized. He would never give up. He would always be there, so wasn't it safer for everyone if he knew the whole story? "Let me call home first. I'm late for dinner as it is."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Keith was frustrated. He'd spent all morning reviewing the personnel records of Schiller, McThune, and Hobart. No Sivya Denisovitch was listed among the two hundred or so employees. Keith would have suspected an alias, except the files included photographs. None of the faces matched that of the young woman he'd been hired to locate.

Keith sat back in his chair and massaged his temples. Sivya was nineteen, a year younger than Veronica. It made him sick to think that but for the grace of God, it might be his daughter missing. His Veronica, his daughter, his best friend. He hated the danger his chosen profession had put her in. Yet he was proud, so proud of the confident, intelligent young woman she had become. He was proud his daughter had chosen to follow in his footsteps.

He glanced at his watch. Veronica would finish her classes in a couple hours. Keith shoved the pile of employment records aside, making a mental note to ask Veronica to inspect them when she returned. Maybe she would see something he hadn't.

Meanwhile, he might as well get started on the July expenditures list. Keith sighed from sheer boredom and settled back in his chair. Sam Spade made PI work look sexy. Too bad it wasn't all Maltese falcons and leggy blondes.

He was still examining the thick file when Veronica knocked on his office door a few hours later. "Hey, sorry I missed you last night. So is this the new case you're working on? Or did you rob another Kinkos?" She stared at the piles of paperwork covering his desk.

Keith pulled a Tootsie Pop from a drawer and stuck it in the corner of his mouth. "Let me tell you sweetheart," he started in his best Bogart impression. "There I was, minding my own business, when this dame strolls in with some sob story about a missing sister. Well, I followed the clues alright. I played the slightly shady Seamus and diggled for the dingus, but it led me nowhere, see." He held the sucker like a cigarette and pretended to blow smoke rings.

Veronica stared at her father with open-mouthed incredulity. "You may applaud now," he announced.

She clapped slowly, with sarcasm. Keith threw the candy wrapper at her.

"Alright, smartypants. Just for that, you can take this stack." He handed her the bottom half of the expenditures report.

"What are we looking for?" She flipped through the pages, quickly scanning through office supply orders, water cooler vendor invoices, and executive airfare bills.

"Anything that might explain how a young Russian woman who is not a client or an employee might have gained access to the building. This is going to take awhile. I've been at it all morning and-"

"What about this," Veronica interrupted. "Exotic Eastern Escorts."

Keith grabbed the page from her and glared. "Show off," he muttered. There it was, itemized under a subheading called _Valued Client Appreciation Event. _"Lawyers. Bless them, they bill for everything."

He picked up the phone and dialed the company's phone number, conveniently listed with the billing information.

"Da." The man on the other end of the line sounded bored. And Russian.

Keith cleared his throat. "Yes, I'm a client with Schiller, McThune and Hobart here in Neptune. I met some of your girls at their little soiree. I was hoping to, ah… " he glanced up at Veronica, who was watching him intently. "… reconnect," he finished lamely.

The man on the other end snorted. "Da, da. Who you want? Tanya?"

"Actually, I was hoping I could arrange a meeting with Sivya." Keith's heart pounded as he waited for a response.

There was a pause, and then: "Nyet, Sivya don't work here no more. You want Tanya? Tanya's good. She give you good time."

"I really wanted Sivya-"

"Nyet, Sivya not here." The man hung up, leaving Keith listening to a dial tone.

"So your missing girl is a hooker?" Veronica asked.

"I get the feeling she didn't volunteer for the job."

"A love-in at the law office explains how she mailed the letter. In between servicing the firm's 'Valuable Clients' she probably found the letterhead on a desk and slipped the envelope into a mail tray. The mail gets picked up the next day and is shipped with the other company correspondence."

"But where is she now?" Keith was distraught. "I really don't want to tell Natasha what happened to her sister."

Veronica picked up her bag and leaned across the desk to kiss her father's shiny bald head. "Hang in there, Dad. Sivya needs you."

Keith sighed and picked up the phone again. "Hello, Natasha? It's Keith Mars."

Veronica shut her father's office door softly behind her and settled in behind her desk. She took out her Criminology text book. It was only day two, and Agent- make that _Professor_- Schuler had assigned the class an essay on the history of Miranda Rights, due by the end of the week. Veronica considered blowing it off. Didn't the guy already have a job? How would he find the time to grade papers, anyway? Besides, surely she was earning a little extra credit for her intelligence gathering.

She had slipped her photographs of the Sorokins' warehouse to Schuler during class that morning. She included a brief report of her narrow escape, detailing the security measures surrounding the warehouse. She left Logan out of the story.

Speaking of whom… the young man himself chose that exact moment to enter the offices of Mars Investigations, carrying a bouquet of pink roses. He laid them on top of her textbook and bowed theatrically. "My lady. I come bearing gifts, in hopes that you might honor me with your presence this evening."

Veronica struggled to imitated his sincere expression, but laughed despite her best efforts. "My good sir, and this a school night?"

"Me thinks the lady doth protest too much."

Keith opened the door of his private office, briefcase in hand. He paused midstride when he saw the scene in front of him. "Logan," he said coldly.

"Mr. Mars." Logan straightened up. "Good to see you again."

Keith looked between Logan, Veronica, and the pink roses. "Am I to take it that you two are an item again?"

"Dad-"

"I know, it's none of my business. I just don't like seeing my little girl get hurt." He glared at Logan, who returned his gaze calmly.

"Dad, be nice."

"I'm always nice," Keith groused. He kissed Veronica's hair and headed out. "Love you. I'll see you later, I want to give Natasha the news about her sister in person."

"Love you too."

As soon as they were alone, Veronica launched herself into Logan's arms. "Hi," she murmured.

"Hello yourself." Their lips met and they enjoyed a more physical greeting. He picked her up and set her on the desk, lessening their height difference. Her legs encircled his waist and he leaned into her warm body.

Veronica's cell phone beeped, signaling an incoming text message. Logan groaned urgently. "Leave it," he mumbled.

She continued to kiss his neck, but fumbled blindly in her bag for the phone. "It's probably Wallace, he said something about mini golf- oh!" She pulled away from Logan in surprise.

"_WAREHOUSE RAID IN 5 MINUTES." _The text was from Agent Rosenswag.

Veronica jumped off the desk. "Sorry, loverboy. Duty calls."

"I'm coming with you."

*********

Fifteen minutes later, Veronica and Logan pulled up in front of the Sorokins' warehouse. The raid was over. Veronica watched as Deputy Sacks and other familiar faces from the Sherriff's Department frisked the Russian guards and bagged their confiscated weapons into evidence. Logan waved cheerily to the men who had fired on them yesterday.

"That's what I love about you. You're always so quick to make friends," Veronica commented. The Russians were glaring venomously in their direction.

Agent Rosenswag emerged from the warehouse. She, too, looked pissed as she marched straight to Veronica's window. "Some tip, Nancy Drew. You want to know what was in those crates?" She didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she dumped a handful of DVDs onto Veronica's lap.

Logan picked one up and studied the cover. "_Star Whores_. Nice. This is destined to be a classic, I'm sure."

Rosenswag's eyes flicked to Logan. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"This is my boyfriend, Logan Echolls-"

"I know who he is, I asked what he's doing here."

Veronica glanced at Logan guiltily. "He figured out I was tailing the Sorokins. It was safer to have him along than to let him stumble into something he shouldn't be involved in."

"And I thought someone should look out for Veronica. It seems like my tax dollars aren't very hard at work." Logan glared at Rosenswag.

"Watch it, kid. You've already breached national security. One word from me and you're in a cell at Gitmo."

"Save it for Bin Ladin. Wait, that would involve actually finding him."

Rosenswag opened her mouth with a retort, but Veronica cut in. "Children, if you can't play nice, you can't play at all."

Rosenswag shifted her icy stare to Veronica. "Just in case you were wondering, you blew our cover for nothing. Now the Russians know we're watching, and all we have to show for it are some lousy skin flicks. Disgusting, but not illegal."

"Yeah, well next time I'll try to open the crates before I get shot at."

Rosenswag didn't answer. She stormed off toward the patrol cars to talk to Deputy Sacks. Logan watched her go. "Wow, and people call you a bitch," he commented.

"That's what I said!" Veronica's phone rang. It was Wallace. "Hey homey, do we have room for one more in our mini golf posse tonight?" Logan gestured negatively, but Veronica just smiled and winked at him. "Excellent. We'll be there in an hour."

She hung up, and Logan groaned, throwing his head back. "Mini golf? Do you really hate me, woman?"

Veronica laughed at his false despair. "I'd go without you, but you'd probably pop out from the big windmill anyway."

Logan grinned. "Don't doubt it."

Veronica started the Saturn and headed for her apartment. "If we hurry, we'll have time for a couple of these DVDs." Logan's eyebrows shot up. "That didn't come out right," she realized.

"I don't have a problem with this plan."

She punched his shoulder. "Don't be gross."

"You're the one insisting we watch porn! I'm merely supporting you in your career choice as an investigative agent for the FBI. So let's investigate."

Veronica rolled her eyes. _Sure_, now _he's cooperative,_ she thought ruefully.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

"So what do you think?" Veronica emerged from her room pulling on a sweater.

Logan and Backup, the Mars' lovable pitbull, sat in front of the television, their eyes glazed and mouths slightly agape. Onscreen, an attractive blond woman was engaged in some sort of bondage activity. Although the two men servicing her had lightsabers, leather chaps, and full face masks, she was completely naked. Her full breasts bounced up and down in syncopated rhythm with the men's grunts of pleasure.

"Logan? Logan! Focus!"

"What? Oh. High quality footage. Definitely not bootlegged. Whatever the Sorokins' are doing, they're not importing pirated pornography."

"Frack. I guess it's back to square one." She reached for the remote, but Logan grabbed it first and held it away from her.

"Hold on, I'm doing important research here!" Logan and Veronica wrestled on the sofa. Backup went running from the melee. "I'm picking up some excellent tips. You'll benefit from this!"

Keith Mars opened his front door and was stopped cold by the scene before him. Veronica had won the remote, but Logan had her pinned beneath him. Their faces were flush with exertion. The cast of _Star Whores_ added their own unique sound effects.

"Dad!" Veronica yelped. Backup barked in greeting, oblivious to the awkwardness of the moment.

Logan quickly rolled off of the former Sheriff of Neptune's only daughter, and Veronica frantically tried to locate the pause button on the DVD controller. Nobody said a word as Keith's complexion went from ghostly pale to a splotchy plum color in a matter of seconds.

"Dad, this isn't what it looks like," Veronica explained. "Logan and I were just-"

Keith held up his hands in a halting gesture. "I don't want to know what you and Logan may or may not have been doing on our couch. You are an adult, and I respect your decisions. Just like I hope you respect the sanctity of my living room!" He glared fiercely and the young lovers exchanged sheepish glances.

Keith continued, "And I especially have no desire to see this… this… smut!" He stabbed his index finger towards the figures onscreen in mid-coitus.

"Sorry, Dad." Veronica finally found the pause button and the actors froze. She leapt from the couch and pressed the television's power button, darkening the screen.

Suddenly, Keith's expression changed. "Wait, turn that back on!"

Veronica did a double-take. "Not you, too! Are all men obsessed with boobs?" She looked down at her own flat chest and crossed her arms in front of her. "I'm doomed."

"Just turn the TV on."

She did as she was asked and resumed her seat next to Logan. "I think you're perfect," he whispered so her father couldn't hear.

Keith was engrossed in the DVD, and Veronica shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "This is mortifying," she muttered. "No daughter should have to endure this."

Backup woofed in agreement and settled at her feet. Drool smeared her sneakers.

"That's her! That's her, that's Sivya!" Keith exclaimed. He paused the film during a close-up of the actress' face. "Where did you get this?"

"Sivya, your missing Russian girl, that Sivya?" In an instant, Veronica understood. The Sorokins' weren't importing pornography, they were exporting it overseas. Her mind spun. Was that what Gorya wanted to borrow from his uncle for the party? Naughty nudie movies?

"I'm sure that's Sivya. Where did you get this?" Keith repeated his question.

Veronica couldn't answer that. She had already told Logan her secret; the FBI would take her off the case if they thought she was spilling her guts to anyone who asked. Instead, she diverted her father's attention to a more pertinent question.

"It doesn't matter where we found the DVD. What matters is where Sivya was when they filmed this." She fast-forwarded to the end credits. Sivya's name didn't appear, but the studio was listed as Big Boy Entertainment.

"Classy," Logan remarked.

Keith scowled at him. "You had better not-"

"Sorry, Dad, we're meeting Wallace and the gang for mini golfing goodness." Veronica jumped up and pulled Logan with her. "I won't be out late. Because it's a school night. And I need to study. Bye!"

The front door slammed behind them. Keith shook his head, trying to remind himself that even though she'd always be his baby girl, Veronica was no longer a child. "Be the cool dad, Keith," he muttered. "Let it go."

Backup barked his approval. Keith frowned at him. "Traitor. I thought we had a deal; I feed you double behind Veronica's back if you keep out the riff-raff."

Backup whined and cocked his head to the side.

Keith scratched behind the dog's ears. "I forgive you. Just make sure they keep all their clothes on. That means socks, too, mister."

He opened his laptop and Googled "Big Boy Entertainment." Their website offered a large collection of sex toys, aphrodisiacs, and other accessories. As for the films, they were separated into various categories. Men and women. Women and women. Men and men. Exotic films. Keith was a little curious about what exactly the last one entailed, but kept searching for an address. No luck. All that was listed was a phone number. The area code was for Los Angeles.

He dialed and was immediately greeted by a sultry voice. "Big Boy Entertainment. What can I do to you?"

He swallowed hard. Focus, Keith. "Yeah, this is Tony DeFuca. I'm a talent agent in Neptune and picked up a new client. I think she'd be perfect for your films. Sweet little thing, girl next door gone wild type."

"You got a photo?"

"Um… yeah. Hang on." Keith searched through his laptop and found a photo of Veronica at the beach. _Sorry, sweetie, _he thought. "What's your email?"

The woman gave him the address and he sent the photo. "Got it," she told him. "Yeah, she looks okay. Kind of small tits, though."

"Look, you got to see this girl in person. Where's your studio located? Let her do a screen test."

"Sorry, buddy, not interested." She hung up on him.

Keith knew he'd have better luck if he went up to Los Angeles himself. It was only two hours north of Neptune via the Pacific Coast Highway. He quickly threw some clothing and toiletries into an overnight bag he kept ready in his closet. A note for Veronica, a doggie treat for Backup, and he was out the door.

**********

"All I'm saying is that you have a waterbed and I don't," Logan murmured in her ear.

Veronica giggled and replied, "I've also got a father who owns a gun and is licensed to use it." Her words were stifled by Logan's lips on hers. They had been saying goodnight in Logan's SUV outside the Mars' apartment building for twenty minutes.

"I thought he took the _Star Whores_ incident pretty well."

"I've got to go. Dad probably knows I'm home. He always knows. It's like he's got a special kind of dad-radar built into that shiny bald head of his." Despite these speculations, she stayed where she was and the couple continued to kiss passionately.

A loud bang issued nearby, like a car backfiring. Logan pulled back and looked around. "Did you hear that?" he asked.

Veronica was still nuzzling his neck. "Probably… giant… mice…"

Logan snorted. "Even this neighborhood doesn't have pests that big. Just look at you."

"Hey!" Veronica pulled away and swatted his shoulder.

Logan laughed and opened the car door. "Time to take you to your castle, m'lady."

Upstairs, outside her apartment, Logan pulled her aside and kissed her once more. "Are you sure I can't get a good look at your ceiling tonight?" he asked wistfully.

Veronica smiled but shook her head no. "I'm buying a waterbed of my own," Logan griped and headed for the stairs.

Veronica pulled her keys out of her pocket and moved to unlock the door. It swung open at her touch. "Logan," she called. "Something's not right here."

He paused on the stairs, then raced back to her side. The wooden frame around the lock was splintered. "Veronica, we should call the Sherriff's office."

"My Dad might still be in there!"

Logan hesitated, then pulled Veronica behind him and pushed the door open. Veronica peeked out from behind his back and gasped. "No! Backup, no!"

Veronica's dog was lying in a pool of blood. He whimpered as Veronica darted forward and laid her hands on his shaking body. "Oh my God, Logan. He's been shot!" Veronica tried to choke back her tears, but one slid down her cheek unbidden.

"Backup, it's okay boy! You'll be okay," she cried.

"Ronnie, we've got to call the Sherriff," Logan whispered gently but urgently. He put his arms around Veronica's shoulders and tried to pry her away from her wounded pet. "Whoever did this could still be here. Ronnie, we've got to go!"

"I'm not leaving Backup," she sobbed. "Where's my dad? Dad!"

Logan found the note Keith had left on the refrigerator. "It's okay, your dad left for L.A. Come on, sweetheart. We'll drive Backup to the emergency vet." Logan scooped the dog into his arms and walked outside.

Veronica knelt on the cold tile floor, staring at the blood poor Backup had left behind. Someone had scrawled a message in crimson letters.

"_QUIT SNIFFING AROUND."_

She drew a jagged breath, then followed Logan to his SUV.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER NINE**

When the phone rang, Logan and Veronica were sound asleep in Logan's bed. The noise was jarring in the dark, silent bedroom, yet the two hardly stirred. It had been a long, exhausting night starting at the emergency vet and ending at the Sherriff's office. The phone rang again.

Veronica shifted slightly and moaned. "Answer the phone," she mumbled. She was curled in a tight ball, her head against Logan's bare chest. He had held her tightly throughout the evening and into the early hours of morning.

Logan groaned. "I can't. I'm dead right now. Corpses can't answer phones. You answer."

"You have longer arms." The phone continued to ring belligerently.

He sighed dramatically and groped blindly for the offending technology. "Casa de Echolls," he answered.

"Logan?"

"That's me."

"I'd like to speak with my daughter, if it's not an inconvenience." The voice on the other end of the line was as chilly as the early morning air.

Logan sat straight up in bed. Suddenly, he was fully awake. He looked at the mobile phone in his hand, then shook Veronica from her slumber. "Shoot! I didn't even check which phone was ringing. It's your dad!"

Veronica snatched her phone away from Logan. "Dad?"

"Why is Logan answering your phone at 6 a.m.?"

"Dad, there's something I need to tell you-"

"Do NOT tell me you have eloped!"

Logan snickered. He could obviously hear Keith's voluminous tones from where he lay. Veronica threw her pillow at him. "Come on, like I could ever get married without my old man there to walk me down the aisle." She smiled a little, but couldn't maintain it. "It's Backup, Dad. Someone broke in, and- and there was blood everywhere. Th-they shot him!"

Veronica dissolved into tears, so Logan eased the phone away from her. "We took Backup to the vet. He was in surgery all night, but they think he'll pull through. The Sherriff has your apartment sealed off, so I brought Veronica back here. I'm sorry, sir, I know how you feel about me. I just couldn't let Veronica stay by herself last night."

Keith was reeling from too much information. Surprisingly, the least of his concerns was that his daughter had spent the night with her boyfriend in a hotel room. "Thank you," he told Logan gruffly. "Is she okay? Are you both okay?"

"Neither of us were hurt. We didn't see who did this, but they left a message." Logan relayed the grim note the intruder had left behind, written in Backup's blood.

"I'm coming home," Keith announced. "This case is too hot. I'll turn over my information to the Los Angeles police and let them take it from here."

Veronica grabbed the phone from Logan. "No, Dad! You can't give up the case! Sivya needs you. The cops will treat it like just another missing persons case. If they even look for her at all."

"Veronica, they could have shot you instead of Backup!"

"Dad, Sivya is over eighteen and working in the sex trade. The police would toss her file in the trash with the thousands of other runaways. You're her only hope of escaping from this." Besides, Veronica wasn't convinced the warning was related to Keith's case. It seemed much more likely that this was a reaction to the FBI raid on the Sorokins' warehouse. But Veronica couldn't tell her father _that_.

Keith hesitated, but finally relented. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe you should stay with Logan while I'm gone. At least you'll be safer from these creeps with him around."

Veronica's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Okay, Dad. I love you. Be safe."

"Yeah, you too."

Veronica and Logan laughed at the double entendre in Keith's voice. Veronica hung up and gazed thoughtfully into space. "Can you believe that? After sneaking around for years, now my dad tells us we should shack up together."

"Remind me to send that man a very nice gift basket for Fathers' Day this year." Logan kissed a trail down Veronica's naked back and she shivered in pleasure.

"Logan?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you think we're safe here?"

He lay back into the huge goose down pillows, pulling her gently on top of him. He held her face in his hand and looked into her eyes. She looked sad and uncertain. She looked scared.

"You're safe here with me," he told her.

*************

Despite the horrible events of the previous evening, Veronica was lost in pleasant daydreams. After their early morning tryst, Veronica had emerged from the shower to find Logan sound asleep. She had reset the alarm so he would wake in time for his first class, made herself some toast and coffee in the tiny kitchenette, and left quietly for her workstudy job in the Hearst College library.

It felt good, not having to lie to her dad about where she had spent the night. It had felt good to spend the night with Logan. As she shelved books and helped lost freshmen find their way through the Dewey Decimal jungle, Veronica wondered at the change in Logan's demeanor. From obligatory psychotic jackass to unexpectedly wonderful boyfriend in less than three years. Go figure.

She didn't see Logan in the cafeteria at lunchtime, but spotted Piz and Wallace in line for food. "Hey, it's my BFF," she said to Wallace. "Are cuts allowed?" She slid between the two.

"Line jumper!" Wallace accused.

"Whatever happened to ladies first?"

"You do not stand between a hungry man and his mystery meat, woman!"

Veronica inspected the daily special. It might've been Sloppy Joes, but she wasn't sure. She opted for a salad and chocolate pudding cup.

Piz led the way to an empty table, and Veronica followed. Wallace was still loading up his tray.

"So… how've you been?" Piz played with an apple and didn't make eye contact when he spoke.

Veronica sighed inwardly. Time to officially end this. "Piz, I've been meaning to talk to you."

Piz glanced up and smiled crookedly. "Yeah. I guess pouting all summer wasn't a great strategy for staying together, huh?"

"No, it wasn't that."

He looked at her skeptically, and she smiled.

"Okay, it didn't help. But I wanted to tell you that I'm seeing someone else, before you find out some other way."

Piz's gaze was full of regret. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the guy. But I'm glad you found someone. Let me guess, you're back with Logan."

Veronica inhaled sharply and looked away. Piz saw her reaction and nodded in resignation. "Don't worry about it. I still think the guy is a Neanderthal, but he's crazy about you. And you should be with someone who makes you happy. Even if it's Logan."

"Thanks, Piz. You're a really great guy, and I'm sorry to tell you this way. I just didn't want you to be caught unaware if Logan shows up."

Wallace slid into an unoccupied chair and tucked into his food with gusto. "Fat chance of Logan showing up here," he said between giant mouthfuls. "Third day of semester and the guy skipped our Econ class."

At least, Veronica was pretty sure that's what Wallace said. His speech was difficult to comprehend through the half a cow he was trying to cram down his throat.

"It's like watching _Shark Attack_ on the Discovery Channel," Piz teased. "The part when they throw the fish guts in and the feeding frenzy begins."

Wallace swallowed and took an extra large gulp of milk to wash down his Sloppy Joe. "Whatever, man, you're just jealous. Like a shark, I am evolution at its finest. I am strong, fast, and I make all the girls scream when they see me."

"When you're a Shark, you're a Shark for life," Veronica intoned and bumped fists with Wallace.

"Damn straight."

She stood to leave and flashed a fake gang sign. "Peace out, yo."

So Logan had missed his Economics class. The anxiety Veronica had managed to stave off all morning returned with a vengeance. She walked across campus towards her next class, trying to think happy thoughts, but she felt hunted. Backup's attacker was still out there. And he had a gun. Veronica was nearly nauseous with fear that Logan might have met with foul play.

Veronica sat on an empty bench in the quad and pulled out her cell phone. Logan's phone went straight to voicemail. "Today's inspirational message: 'the future depends on what we do in the present.' Mahatma Gandhi."

It was the same message as yesterday. Logan usually changed his voicemail on a daily basis. Veronica was torn. If she went rushing back, she would probably find him still asleep where she had left him. She stood up and walked slowly towards her assigned lecture hall. She opened the heavy door and stood aside to let a couple girls exit the building. On the other hand, Backup was in the veterinary hospital, critically injured. What if whoever had put him there wanted to send a stronger message?

Veronica released the door and ran for her Saturn parked behind the Student Union Building.

**********

As the elevator doors slid open, the first thing Veronica noticed was the noise. The usually serene top floor of the Neptune Grand was ringing with shouting and high pitched cries. Veronica hustled down the hall towards Logan's door and realized the cacophony was coming from inside the suite.

Veronica knocked loudly, but didn't wait for a response before using the card key she'd been given last year. She entered the suite and the volume increased by at least ten decibels.

Logan was pacing the floor, phone to his ear. He did not acknowledge Veronica's appearance but continued to rant. "I've left eight messages already! You get your butt on a plane back to Neptune. You are not leaving me to clean up your messes!"

Logan hung up and flung the phone onto the sofa before collapsing there himself. He looked exhausted and scared. Sitting in front of him on the coffee table was a cardboard box. The crying seemed to be coming from within. Veronica moved forward to get a better look. She gasped when she saw what was inside.

"Logan, there is a baby in that box!"

He gave a short, mirthless laugh and laid his head back to rest on the sofa. "It followed me home," he said with his eyes shut. "There was a box of free kittens, too, but the free baby was just too cute to pass up." His eyes flew open and he said with mock sincerity, "I promise to walk it every day."

The baby continued to yowl, but Veronica was nearly speechless with shock. "Where did it come from?" she managed to sputter.

Logan shook his head and shrugged. "I was heading out for class this morning and there it was, sitting on the doormat." He shrugged again, his eyes drifting down to the small flailing form swaddled in a used fruit container.

In a small voice that could barely be heard over the wailing, Veronica asked, "Is it yours?"


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER TEN**

In a small voice that could barely be heard over the wailing, Veronica asked, "Is it yours?"

"What? No!" Logan jumped off the couch, suddenly agitated. "How could you even ask me that?"

"It's just… there was a lot going on last year." Veronica was on an emotional rollercoaster. She had been ready to face mortal danger, but not this. She tried stay calm, but she could hear her voice quaver. "Logan, if this is your baby I can… try… to understand. But you need to tell me the truth. Right now."

Logan could see the desperate look on her face. He strode across the sitting room and held her at arms' length. "Veronica, this is not my baby. I promise. Just wait here, I'll show you."

He let go of her and dashed into the kitchen. More than anything, Veronica wanted to believe him. She knew Logan, and didn't think he would lie to her. But nagging voice inside her head still asked the terrible question, _"wouldn't it be just like the son of Aaron Echolls to get in trouble with a one-night stand?" _She could practically see the lurid celebrity tabloid headlines.

Logan emerged from the kitchen, brandishing a letter. "I found this with the kid, taped to the box" he declared.

The envelope was plain except for the name "Dick Casablancas, Jr." printed in neat penmanship across the front. Veronica removed the letter from its envelope with shaking hands.

_Dear Dick,_

_I'm so sorry to tell you this way, but this is your son. His name is Joey, and he's eight months old. I never would leave him like this except that I can't protect him anymore. Please keep our son safe. I'm sorry. When he's older, tell Joey his Mama loves him forever._

The letter was unsigned.

Veronica stood thoughtfully for a moment, letter in hand. Logan watched her anxiously. Finally, she moved over to Joey, still crying in his cardboard crib. Just like Dick, the baby had flaxen blond hair and bright blue eyes. Veronica lifted him from the box and carried him to the dining room table. She laid Joey down, unfastening his little blue jumper.

Logan trailed behind her. "What are you doing?" he asked cautiously.

"Checking for a spiked tail. You know, I always thought the Spawn of Satan would have red skin and horns."

Logan chuckled in relief. "Who knew Dick Casablancas could produce a seemingly normal human child?"

"Sure, he looks normal. It's all teddy bears and sunshine until his eyes glow green and he tells you to jump off your balcony."

"Thank God there aren't many corn fields here in Neptune."

"Where is dear Daddy Dick?"

"Surfing in Mexico. That was him I was talking to when you came in. Or his voicemail, anyway. I've left a ton of messages."

"Mexico? The semester just started three days ago!"

Logan shrugged and held his hands up defensively. "Hey, he wanted me to come with, but I was trying to be responsible and go to class." He looked down at little Joey on the table. "I guess I was destined to skip today regardless of the surf report."

Veronica unfastened the baby's diaper. "He's wet," she announced. "This model didn't happen to come with accessories like diapers or formula, did it?"

"No." Logan ran his hand through his already disheveled hair. "I guess he'll need that stuff if he's staying awhile, huh?"

"Staying? Logan, you've got to call Child Protective Services!"

"What, and have them put Joey in foster care?" Logan was agitated again. "No way! Dick is my best friend. I am not giving up his kid to CPS. Joey's not going anywhere until Dick gets back from Mexico and can decide for himself what to do."

"Logan, you don't know how to take care of a baby-"

"You do. You helped Duncan."

That brought Veronica up short. It was true, she had helped Duncan take care of his daughter as they prepared to flee the country. She changed tactics.

"We don't even know for sure if this is Dick's baby."

"The letter-"

"I could write a letter saying George Washington was the father of my baby, but it wouldn't make it true. The only way to know is to locate the mother and check the facts. Even then, there still needs to be a paternity test."

"Then I'm keeping Joey until I find the mother, or until Dick gets back. Either way, he's not going to foster care." Logan declared. "Are you going to help me or not?" he asked fiercely.

Veronica sighed impatiently. Logan could be so stubborn sometimes!

"Ronnie," he implored her. "The letter said Joey was in danger. He needs us."

Free of his soggy diaper, Joey cooed happily and waved his hands towards Veronica. She let him curl his tiny fist around her finger. "Fine," she said. "But we're going to need some supplies."

************

Ninety minutes later, Logan returned with several heavy shopping bags. "How could one small person need so much stuff?" he grunted. He heaved the bags onto the kitchen counter with some effort.

Joey's jumper had been washed and was drying on a dining room chair. Logan saw that the child himself was wrapped in a clean towel, sound asleep with Veronica on the couch. She lay with him cradled against her chest, where he sucked his small fingers blissfully. Veronica held Joey with one arm, her other hand clutching his mother's farewell letter. Logan guessed Veronica had been inspecting it for clues before drifting to sleep herself.

Veronica and the baby hadn't heard Logan enter the suite. He crept closer, perching on the end of the sofa for a better look. Joey resembled Dick, there was no doubt about it. But Joey and Veronica shared a number of similar features as well. To see them together, their blond hair tousled in sleep, it was easy to imagine the two were mother and child.

This vision caused something in Logan to twinge unexpectedly. He regarded the pair, searching for recognition of this new feeling. Fear? That would be a natural reaction. He and Veronica had never talked about the future. It had always been a struggle for them to stay together on a day-to-day basis.

"_Relationships shouldn't be this hard," _she had once said to him.

"_They don't write songs about the ones that are easy," _he had told her.

But this feeling was different than fear. Logan wasn't afraid, not of a future with Veronica. He realized that the twinge he felt was… yearning. Jealousy, even. He wished this was his life, that it was their baby asleep in Veronica's arms.

He was shocked at the revelation within himself. "_Where did _that _come from?" _ He wondered. Deep down, though, he knew. Within one year, Logan's life had been ripped to shreds. His girlfriend had been brutally killed, his mother had committed suicide, and his father had stood trial for murder, only to be assassinated. Even the Echolls' mansion had burnt to the ground. Logan had been alone for a very long time. He looked at Veronica and the tow-headed child nestled close to her body. For the first time in years, Logan could envision what it would be like to have a family again. A family of his own.

Joey stirred and saw Logan watching. He reached with tiny arms and squirmed against Veronica's protective embrace, making small fussing sounds. Logan quickly scooped him up and bounced the baby lightly on his shoulder.

"Shh, Auntie Ronnie is sleeping," he murmured. "You must be hungry, huh? Does Uncle Logan have a treat for you! Formula and mashed peas, yum!"

Veronica was already waking up, however. She rubbed her eyes and focused blearily on Logan and the baby. "Mmm. Sounds tasty."

"Buongiorno, principessa," Logan said, affecting an Italian accent. "Non, non, dis is only for the bambino. For de more mature palette, de house special tonight is lasagna and de little cannolis."

"Aw, you brought cannolis."

"Yes, but I left the gun with Don Corleone."

Veronica stretched and rose from the sofa. She patted Logan's cheek. "You're a good boy. You too, Bambino." She kissed Joey's head. "You might want to put him in a diaper first, or else the maids will be cranky with you when they come to change the towels."

"Good point." Logan rummaged in one of the shopping bags he'd left in the kitchen and pulled out a pack of Luvs. Veronica coached him through the basics, then wandered into the kitchen. She mixed a bottle of formula for Joey and popped it into the microwave, then served up the lasagna for her and Logan.

Logan cleaned up in the dining room and set the table. Everyone ate enthusiastically. "So how was your day, dear?" he asked flippantly.

"I examined the letter that came with Joey. It's cheap, generic stock. There are no watermarks on the envelope or the paper to indicate where it was bought or manufactured. And no postmark."

"What, you mean you can't ship a baby overnight express?"

Veronica continued as if she were oblivious to the interruption. "There's nothing in this letter that can point us to the mother. So I'm thinking we should start with Joey. The letter says he's eight months old. We can canvass the local hospitals and try to find his birth certificate."

"Which would list the birth mother."

"Unless she used an alias at the hospital."

Logan leaned over and kissed Veronica tenderly. "Thank you. For helping. I know you've already got a lot going on."

Veronica smiled thinly and picked up a cannoli. "You realize I'll be waiting with a camera when you tell Dick he's a father?"

"I'll make sure you get a good angle," Logan laughed.

Veronica's phone rang. "That could be the vet," she said. She passed the baby to Logan and jumped up to answer. Her caller ID said it was Mack.

"Hey, girlfriend, que pasa?"

Mack was not in a good mood, however. "V, can you come to campus? Someone broke into all the rooms in Baran Hall. They stole my computer!"


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

When Veronica arrived at Mac's room in Baran Hall, she was met by a familiar face. It just wasn't the one she was expecting.

"Leo! That was nice of the Sheriff to send his best and brightest. " Veronica stretched up on her tip-toes to plant a light kiss on Deputy Leo D'Amato's cheek.

Her former beau grinned and returned her embrace. "If it isn't the FBI's most special Special Agent. I heard your internship went well this summer."

"I'll make at least one of their most wanted lists by the time I graduate." Veronica surveyed the room. The place was trashed. Both dressers had been emptied into a heap on the floor, along with the contents of the desks.

Mac and Parker sat on a bed side-by-side, giving their statements to another officer. Parker was staring at Veronica and Leo. She looked upset, but Veronica wasn't sure if it was due to the theft or Veronica's appearance on the scene. After Logan's chivalrous, albeit violent, displays of affection for Veronica last spring, she and Parker hadn't exactly left for summer vacation on speaking terms.

Leo gestured to indicate that Veronica should follow him into the hallway outside. "I heard about the break-in at your apartment. Is Backup okay? Are you okay?" He asked quietly.

Veronica's stomach twisted a little as she recalled recent events. "Boy, the Sheriff's Department grapevine is better than I remember. Backup is going to be okay. No puppy paraplegia for him. I can bring him home from the veterinary hospital in a week or so. If our apartment is released from the crime scene investigators by then." She tried to smile, but her damp eyes weren't very convincing.

"I'll see what I can do." Leo cradled Veronica's head in his big hand and kissed her hair softly.

Parker stood and made to leave. "God, Veronica, are there any men in this town that don't have a Pavlovian response when you walk in a room?" she asked as she brushed past roughly.

Leo watched her go. "Uh-oh. Have you been breaking more hearts, Ms. Mars?"

"There was a guy, but I saw him first." Veronica wiped her eyes subtly on her sleeve.

"Fair enough."

Mac finished her statement and wandered over to Leo and Veronica. She looked dejected. "How's tricks, kid?" Veronica asked sympathetically.

"Other than my hand-built, state of the art computer that I value more than life itself getting stolen from my room?"

"Other than that."

"My stereo, and Parker's TV and laptop are gone, too. Plus some jewelry."

"They cleaned out most of the rooms in Baran Hall," Leo chimed in.

"How could the thieves have robbed so many rooms without anyone noticing?" Veronica wondered aloud. "People are in and out of the dorms practically 24/7."

"There was a fire alarm, so everyone evacuated to the south lawn," Mac told her. "When the firemen let us back in the building an hour later, our stuff was gone and our rooms were like this." She gestured helplessly to the mess on her floor.

"What, you think the firemen took your stuff?" Leo sounded skeptical.

"No," Mac said.

"Yes," countered Veronica. Both Leo and Mac's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Veronica turned to Leo. "Wasn't there a theft last week from a local fire station? Twenty bucks says those weren't real firemen who responded to the alarm here this evening."

Leo looked thoughtful. "No bet. I'll check with the Fire Marshal and see what his 911 logs say."

"Was all the action on this floor?"

"No. In fact, Sacks and the Sheriff are upstairs on the boys' floor. They were hit even worse. Guys always have cooler gadgets than girls."

Veronica smiled. "Boys and their toys."

She snapped a few photographs of Mac and Parker's room, then headed upstairs to the boys' floor. She wasn't the only spectator. Students milled in the hallway and packed into friends' doorways. Their expressions ranged from morbid curiosity to angry frustration. Once voice stood out in particular, and hearing it caused Veronica to take cover in the stairwell.

"You fucking morons!" Gorya Sorokin shouted at Deputy Sacks and Sheriff Vincent Van Lowe. His doorway was outlined by green spray paint. "Why are you just fucking standing around?"

"Cool it, kid. You'll get your stuff back along with everyone else when we catch these bozos," Vinnie told him.

"That 'stuff' is professional grade filmmaking and editing equipment. It's worth more than you'll make in a year," Gory snarled at him. Gory slammed his door shut just as the forensics team arrived with their bulky gear.

"Alright, let's clear the area!" Deputy Sacks called, attempting to create some space for the men to work.

As officers swept students from the floor, Veronica was able to see all of the graffiti covering Gory's door. It was a giant, green shamrock. She pulled out her camera and quickly snapped some photos.

"I didn't know you were an art lover, Veronica."

She turned to face Vinnie Van Lowe. "Are you kidding? Art Appreciation and Underwater Basket Weaving are practically required courses for any self- respecting college student. I particularly like what this piece says about the artists who painted it."

"That they're sensitive vegetarians looking to get lucky?"

"Or that they're angry, Irish, and have no respect for the law. Does that sound like anyone we know?"

"Stay away from the Fitzpatricks. I may not be around to rescue you like last time."

"Last time… you mean when you were working for the Fitzpatricks. That time?" Veronica asked. "So how about now, Vinnie? Is your name still in their books, or can we expect to see some arrests soon? Because this seems like a pretty clear calling card." She gestured to the green paint on the wall.

He pointed his finger at her in warning. "It's Sheriff Vinnie to you. And we'll take care of this. There's some serious shit going on in that family right now. You do not want to be caught in the crossfire."

"Gee Sheriff Vinnie, you sure have a lot of inside information considering you've sworn to uphold the law."

"I've got my sources."

"Aw, missed opportunities. You could have used that as your campaign slogan. 'Vote for Vinnie, he's got friends in Lowe places'."

He walked away laughing. "Play nice and I'll hire you as my campaign manager for next year's re-election," he called over his shoulder.

Veronica sighed and snapped another photo of the Fitzpatrick's four-leaf logo. "_Who needs criminals with law enforcement like Vinnie Van Lowe?" _she asked herself silently.

********

When Veronica arrived at the Neptune Grand, she found Logan and Joey still wide awake. In fact, Logan had Joey hoisted in the air and was spinning him around the room like an airplane. Joey was giggling with obvious delight.

"Boys, isn't it past your bedtime?" Veronica asked.

Logan paused mid-twirl. "Aw, Mom! Ten more minutes!" He whined.

Veronica laughed and took Joey into her arms. "Sorry, only one of you is allowed to miss class again tomorrow. And it isn't Joey. Time to sleep, both of you!"

She made her way towards Dick's room, which they had set aside for Joey during his stay. Logan followed her and watched as she lay Joey on the bed. He pulled out a pair of pint-sized pajamas from one of the shopping bags he'd brought home that afternoon. "Here, I got these for him."

They were interrupted by Veronica's cell phone. She checked the caller ID. "It's Weevil," she told Logan. "I'd better see what he needs. You're on baby bedtime duty."

She answered her phone, "Hey Weevs! Long time no see. Whatcha been up to? Keeping your nose and Hearst College clean?"

"Hey, V. We all do what we can, you know?" Eli "Weevil" Navarro answered.

Behind Veronica, Logan was laying on the bed and balancing Joey in the air above him. "Quick, Snoopy, it's the Red Baron. Dive, dive!" He brought Joey down to him and blew a raspberry on his bare stomach. Joey laughed hysterically.

"Where are you, Chuck E. Cheese's?" Weevil asked.

Veronica shot Logan and Joey a frantic look. "Uh… no. Just watching _Look Who's Talking_ _3_. Those talking dogs! They crack me up," she invented wildly. "What can I do for you, Weevil?"

"You hear that, Snoopy?" Logan asked the baby. "It's never a good sign when your favorite girl lies to her friends about being with you. Of course, you're a Casablancas, so I guess you'd better get used to it."

Veronica had to work hard to hold back her laughter. Weevil was asking her a question. "I'm sorry, Weevil, I missed that."

"I said, you do think the cops are gonna try to pin that campus robbery on me?"

"Nope, you're in the clear for this one, Weevil. Sheriff Vinnie knows exactly who did it, but I think he's going to have a tough time making an arrest."

"Okay, thanks V. I just wanted to be prepared for any late-night visits from our friendly Sheriff."

Veronica was intrigued by Weevil's hyper-sensitivity to a chat with local law enforcement, but decided not to pursue the topic. She had enough to deal with right now. "Don't worry, Weevil. I don't think you're Vinnie's type."

"Goodnight, smartass."

"Goodnight," Veronica said and hung up. She looked at Logan, who was had just finished putting Joey in his pajamas. "Snoopy?"

"I named him after you."

"Hmm. Speaking of…" She went into the living room and pulled out her laptop. She logged into the phone tapping website she'd set up to monitor Gory Sorokin's calls. As she'd expected, there was a new recording from that evening.

"Uncle Lev, it's Gorya."

"Gorya, I tell you already. The shipment isn't due until next Tuesday. You can take what you want then."

"It's not that. Some asshole broke into the dorm and stole a bunch of computers, including mine."

"So what? Ask your father for a new one."

"It's just that…" Gory hesitated. "My computer had some stuff on it, Uncle Lev. Some stuff that could get me into real trouble. I need it back, before anyone sees-"

"Don't say no more over the phone," Lev Sorokin instructed his nephew. "Gorya, I tell you to clean up your own messes, but you only bring me more shit."

"I know, Uncle Lev, I'm sorry."

"We'll find your computer. But no more of your bullshit!"

"Yes, Uncle."

The conversation ended as Logan emerged from Dick's room, baby monitor in hand. "So the shipment is coming in next Tuesday, whatever it is they're smuggling in," Logan said.

"I'm more interested in the missing computer. It sounds like there's something on Gory's hard drive that didn't make it onto his MySpace page." Veronica leaned back on the couch thoughtfully. "Damn, if only we could find the computer before Lev Sorokin gets to it!"


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER TWLEVE**

"I have something for you." Logan and Veronica were parked in his X-Terra. He reached behind him into the diaper bag next to Joey's car seat and pulled out a small, velvet box. He tossed it casually to Veronica.

She caught the box shook it experimentally. "Did you get me a pony?" She asked facetiously.

"Open it, smarty-pants."

Veronica did he asked. She gasped softly when she saw the gold ring inside.

Logan slid the wedding band on her left ring finger. "Veronica Mars, will you be my wife for the next fifteen minutes?"

"You don't think a pair of those glasses with the big nose and fuzzy eyebrows would be a better disguise?" she asked uncertainly.

He grinned and hopped out of the SUV. "Come on, Snoopy," Logan said to Joey as he unfastened the baby from his car seat. "It's time for a game of Let's Pretend."

"I love this game," Veronica commented as they walked into the Balboa County Records Department. They had spent the weekend questioning medical personnel at all five of the local area hospitals. None of the staff remembered Joey or his mother.

"Eight months ago?" one nurse had asked Veronica. "Mija, I can't remember what happened eight minutes ago. We deliver dozens of babies here every month."

The only avenue they had yet to explore was the birth certificates filed with the county Records Office. As with most public offices, the Records Department was closed over the weekend. Logan and Veronica had been forced to wait until Monday after class, but the extra time gave them an opportunity to work on their cover story. Veronica knew this mission would take some ingenuity; she was fairly certain all government offices bought red tape in bulk. The Records Office in particular generated nearly as much paperwork as they archived.

Veronica marched up to the front desk purposefully, Logan straggling behind. "I need a copy of my baby's birth certificate," she barked at the clerk. She fumed at Logan. "My husband here somehow managed to misplace the copy we received at the hospital."

"I told you, I put it with our insurance papers-"

"Oh, and I suppose it just got up and walked away on its own, is that it?" Veronica interrupted him.

The clerk had dyed red hair and wore a frumpy cardigan featuring black and white bunnies. Veronica had her pegged as the mothering type. Sure enough, the woman reacted to the young couple's quarrel with distress. "Oh, well it's not a problem," she said. Her hands fluttered in the air anxiously. "I just need your baby's name, and we can print you a copy right here."

Logan and Veronica exchanged glances. They couldn't exactly tell this woman they didn't know their son's name. After the slightest pause, Logan spoke up.

"Harvey," he said. Both the clerk and Veronica looked at him in surprise. "Um… James Harvey."

The clerk nodded and typed rapidly. Her desk was littered with rabbit figurines and a cute bunny calendar. _"Harvey?" _ Veronica mouthed. Logan shrugged.

"Oh, dear," the clerk fretted. "I don't see a James Harvey. I mean, I don't see that we have any record of him. Of course I see James, he's such a darling baby!"

That was Veronica's cue. Time to let the real fireworks begin. "James gets his good looks from me. You want to know what he gets from his father? He gets his thick head from his father!" Veronica screamed.

Joey, AKA James, joined in her wails. "And I would know, I was in labor for sixteen hours! I cook, I clean, I take care of the baby!" She turned to Logan and hit him in the shoulder. "My dad warned me you were a screw up. I ask you to do one thing, and you lose our baby's birth certificate!"

"Oh, dear," the clerk said again.

"Please," Logan implored the woman over Joey's cries. "Maybe it's just been misfiled. Can we look at all the records for babies born eight months ago?"

"Oh, well... we're not really allowed to-"

"Please," Logan asked again. Veronica wiped some fake tears from her eyes and sniffled pitifully.

The woman relented. "Well, I don't see the harm in it." She typed into her computer and gestured that Logan and Veronica should come around the counter. "These are all the birth certificates issued in Balboa County last December. Why don't I take a break and let you kids take a look-see."

Veronica sniffed again and beamed at the clerk. "Oh, thank you! You're so nice."

The woman waived and headed down the hallway. "It'll be our little secret, dear."

Veronica quickly sorted the list according to gender and eliminated all the girls. She then removed all the babies who were not Caucasian, and those whose fathers had been present at the time of birth. That left about a dozen or so names. Veronica printed the list and shoved the papers in her purse, just as the clerk emerged from the break room with a cup of coffee.

"Did you find what you needed?"

"Actually, I just realized we've made a mistake. Little James was born in Santa Ana County!" Veronica told her. She pushed Logan towards the door. "Thanks for all your help, we really appreciate it!"

They practically ran back to the X-Terra. Logan quickly bucked Joey into his car seat and peeled out of the parking lot. "And I thought I'd seen you at your worst," he laughed.

"Fear my wrath," Veronica commanded, grinning from ear to ear. "Fear me!"

"And what was that bit about your dad? Did he really call me a screw up?" Logan asked. "Because if so, that's probably the nicest thing he's ever said about me."

"Nonsense. I distinctly recall he once complimented your excellent taste in female companionship."

"Oh. I must have missed that. Was I with Parker then?"

Veronica glared at him. "What happened to fearing me? That's it, I want a divorce." She slid the ring off her finger at put it back in the velvet box.

Logan took her hand and kissed her fingers where the ring had been. "I'd tell you to keep it, but I think it's cursed." Veronica looked at him curiously, and he gave her a crooked smile.

"It was my mother's," he explained. "It was being cleaned at the jewelers the day she disappeared."

Veronica squeezed his hand sympathetically, unsure what to say.

"Well, we still have a couple more hours of daylight. Your call, Nancy Drew," Logan told her. "Go home and finish our schoolwork, or track down some names on that list?"

"An after school study session _is_ a widely accepted boyfriend-girlfriend activity," she ventured.

"So you wanna go stalk some single mothers and see if one of them is missing her son?"

"Hell yes!"

***********

The cafeteria at Hearst was always packed at lunchtime, but that Tuesday Veronica had a table to herself. _"Just an added benefit of internet infamy,"_ Veronica thought to herself. Since the video of her and Piz fooling around had become the number-one email attachment last spring, Veronica found she had no problems getting a seat at mealtimes. Few people were keen to sit next to someone so recognizable.

"Hey gorgeous. How're you doing?"

Of course, there were always exceptions. Veronica regarded the young man suddenly sitting next to her. The guy was good looking, but he had the freshman aura about him. Keys on a Hearst lanyard around his neck. Carefully ironed clothes. Dead giveaways.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Should I?"

Definitely a freshman. "Beat it kid," she told him. "This table is for grown-ups."

"Aw, don't be like that. I'm very mature for my age."

Wallace and Piz walked up behind Veronica's admirer and kicked his chair leg. "You're in my seat," Wallace growled at him.

The freshman rolled his eyes and moved towards two girls wearing skimpy halter tops. Veronica grinned at her BFF. "Wallace Fennel, you're my hero."

"It's good to be a sophomore. I missed having people lower than me on the food chain."

"It's character building."

Wallace was about to reply, but Mac darted over to their table, Parker in tow. "Good, you're all here!" Mac said as she pulled up a chair.

Parker hesitated to sit when she saw Veronica. There was an awkward moment when it looked as though she might turn away. After a second of indecision, however, she also found a chair and sat quietly. She didn't look at Veronica.

"How do you feel about original sin?" Mac asked the group.

"I'm sorry Jesus died, but thankful it led to Easter Eggs," Wallace answered, obviously confused.

Piz perked up. "Actually, the radio station I interned for this summer gave me a weekly late-night slot to feature local talent. I was thinking my first show could be Original Sin."

Parker smirked knowingly. "Mac's new boyfriend is in the band."

"No way!" Piz was obviously impressed.

"Ooh, a new boy. Who is it?" Veronica asked.

"Tyson Hunt. He's a junior here at Hearst. He plays drums." Mac blushed furiously, but still smiled in obvious delight

" They call their band 'Original Sin'? How'd they come up with that?" Wallace asked.

"Because they worship the gods of Rock n'Roll!" Parker posed in her best Gene Simmons impression.

"Huh. Maybe they should call themselves 'Un-Original Sin'. Worshipping false idols is so old school." Veronica said.

"More like Old Testament," Mac answered.

Veronica nodded in agreement. "Now chucking burnt toast at unsuspecting passersby, that's an original sin."

"I'm glad we're friends. It makes me happy," Mac told her. She let her gaze wander to their other companions. "I'm supposed to offer you all back stage passes to the concert tonight. Courtesy of Ty."

"I like this new guy already," Piz said. "I'm down for a concert."

"Anywhere there are cute girls dancing, that's where I'll be," Wallace confirmed.

Mac looked at Veronica expectantly. "I don't know if I can tonight," Veronica hedged. "Logan…"

"Is also invited," Mac told her.

Veronica's eyes flicked to Parker. The other girl was staring hard at the table top. "We'll see," Veronica told Mac noncommittally.

Piz stood to leave. "It's time for my show on campus radio. I'm interviewing Parker. Today's topic: The Baran Hall Bandits. How Safe Is Your Dorm Room?"

Parker followed him gratefully away from their table. Wallace also left for class, leaving just Veronica and Mac.

"Speaking of the Baran Hall Bandits, any luck finding our stuff?" Mac asked. "The computer lab smells like stale corn chips and unwashed socks."

Veronica groaned internally. Her time had been consumed by the search for Joey's mother. She and Logan had tracked down all but three of the dozen names on the list they'd garnered from the Balboa Records Department. Their efforts had gone unrewarded. Except for the women they'd been unable to locate, all babies had been accounted for. The only time Veronica had even thought about the thefts at Baran Hall was Monday morning when she had passed Agent Schuler the recording of Gory Sorokin's conversation with his Uncle Lev.

"Mac, I'm so sorry. I have no idea where your computer is," Veronica told her. "But I do know who took it."

"You do?" Mac looked excited. "Veronica Mars, you have mad skills!"

"It's a gift. And a curse."

"So who did it?"

"You're not going to like this," Veronica warned her, "but I'm pretty sure the Fitzpatricks have moved their crime spree from the Oh-Niner neighborhoods to the rest of the city."

"So… what's the Sheriff doing?"

"My guess? Pocketing some of the profit. I think Vinnie made a deal with Liam. He gets elected Sheriff, and the Fitzpatricks get free run of Neptune, as long as they stay out of the ritzy areas," Veronica hypothesized.

"I'm not getting my stuff back, am I?"

"You hear that?" Veronica put her hand to her ear.

Mac frowned. "Hear what?"

"Exactly. No fat ladies singing here. Hang in there," Veronica told her.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

"You should go," Logan said when Veronica told him about the concert.

"What, and just leave you here with Joey?"

Logan laughed. "I'm alone with Joey all the time. He's lasted this long, I think we can make do for a few more hours."

Veronica looked skeptical. "You wouldn't think less of me for abandoning you?"

"I'm the one who insisted we watch him. This shouldn't be a prison sentence for you. Go, have fun with your friends."

"Dick better get back from Mexico soon," Veronica groused. "I'd like to actually leave the hotel with you at some point."

Her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID. "It's my dad! Try to keep Joey quiet," she told Logan. She went in their bedroom and shut the door.

"Hey, stranger! I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me," she teased her father.

"Are you kidding? Unforgettable is what you are," Keith answered his daughter.

"Did you remember to buy me a pair of Mickey Mouse ears?"

"I'll work on that," Keith promised. "Meanwhile, are you near a computer?"

"Yup. What've you got?"

"I couldn't find an address for Big Boy Entertainment, the studio where Sivya Denisovitch was filmed. Seeing as it's… less than reputable, it's probably some low-rent rat hole that never filed for an operating license. So I had to go digging through the Orange County articles of incorporation. There were a lot of layers, but it all seems to come down to a company called 'Sorokin Enterprises'. The paperwork says they're based out of Neptune."

The information sent Veronica's mind spinning. Sivya was filmed in studio owned by the Sorokins? Veronica had assumed the Sorokins were simply exporting pornography, not making it themselves. Was her dad's case somehow connected to the FBI's investigation?

"So are you coming home soon?" Veronica asked her father.

"Do you want me to? You and Logan aren't fighting again, are you?" There was more than a hint of ill-disguised hopefulness in Keith's voice.

"Logan and I are great, Dad. I was just curious," she told him firmly.

"Oh. Well, that's… nice." Keith changed topics hurriedly. "Here's what I want you to do. Look up Sorokin Enterprises and see what properties they hold in Los Angeles."

"Got it. I'll email you the list."

"Thank you," Keith said. "I love you, Daughter. Don't get too comfortable living with Logan; I want you back when I get home."

"I love you, too, Dad."

After a quick internet search in the Private Eyes Database, she sent Keith the information he had requested and kissed Logan good-bye. "You're sure I'm not abandoning you?"

"Go! You're already late for the concert."

Veronica scooped up her purse and car keys from the credenza, and whisked out the door. Neither she nor Logan noticed her cell phone still sitting near the computer.

Nearly an hour later, Logan had just put Joey to bed when Veronica's phone rang. He rushed to silence the call before it could wake the baby. He would have let it go straight to voicemail, but the caller ID said it was Ben Schuler. Logan remembered Schuler was one of Veronica's FBI liaisons. After a moment of hesitation, he answered.

"Agent Schuler?"

"Hello, who is this?" Schuler snapped.

"It's Logan Echolls. Veronica's boyfriend."

"Is she available?"

"No. I'm sorry, she's stepped out for awhile. She must have forgotten her phone."

Schuler sighed impatiently. "She's not with my partner, is she? Tess Rosenswag?"

"I don't think so. She was heading out with some friends. Can I take a message?"

"No. Well, yes. Tell her I'm trying to locate Agent Rosenswag. And to be careful."

"What do you mean, be careful?"

"Rosenswag was tailing that creepy Sorokin kid, and now she's missing. I don't know, maybe she got snagged. Veronica should watch herself until I can sort this out."

"Okay. Thanks. I'll make sure she gets the message." Logan hung up. An FBI agent was missing. Someone had already threatened Veronica, nearly killing her dog in the process.

Logan had Joey strapped in his carrier and was driving out of the Neptune Grand's parking garage in less than three minutes.

**********

Original Sin was actually pretty decent, for a college-indie rock band. The crowd was amped up, dancing to a fast-paced beat provided by Mac's new beau Tyson. Veronica took a breather from the dance floor and ventured up to the bar.

_Thank God for lamination machines,_ she thought as she presented her fake ID. Veronica was a true craftsman. The bartender didn't give her phony license a second's thought.

"Here. It's for you." Veronica turned and was more than a little surprised to find Parker standing next to her, cell phone in hand. "Tell Logan he's got a lot of nerve calling me to find you."

Parker stormed away furiously, leaving a bewildered Veronica holding the phone. She put it to her ear. "Logan?" she yelled. The music was pounding. Logan said something, but Veronica couldn't make it out. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

She still couldn't hear his response. "I'm going outside," she yelled. "I'll call you back."

As Veronica exited the building, Parker made a snap decision. She followed Veronica into the chill night air.

Veronica hurried outside and dialed Logan's number. She walked quickly down the block to where she had parked her Saturn SUV. The night was quiet, the music inside the club muffled to a dull pulsating _thump-thump-thump_. Logan wasn't answering his phone.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her arm and pulled her around the corner onto a quiet side street. Veronica's free hand automatically curled in a fist and she swung around to punch her assailant. The man caught her and pinned her arms to her sides in a tight bear hug.

"You're okay!" Logan practically shouted in relief.

Veronica stopped struggling. "I'd be a lot better if you'd quit sneaking up on me like this. You scared the hell out of me!" She took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly. Logan released her. "I thought we had a deal. No more following me around. Now that we're dating again, you're allowed to accompany me in public."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was worried."

"What's the matter? Is Joey okay?" Veronica went to Logan's parked X-Terra and opened the rear door. Joey was crying, so Veronica unbuckled him from his car seat and bounced him on her shoulder.

"It's okay, kiddo," she told him. She let the baby suck on her finger, and his cries faded in to small hiccups.

"Joey's not the one I was worried about," Logan told her. "Agent Schuler called. Rosenswag has disappeared. Schuler didn't know if it was foul play, or what."

Veronica looked at him in disbelief. "So you came here looking for me, thinking I was in danger. And you brought Joey with you."

"What was I supposed to do? It's not like I could leave him with Jeff Rattner," Logan retorted, referring to their weasely classmate who worked as a bellhop at the Neptune Grand.

Before Veronica could respond, however, a different classmate appeared from around the corner. Parker looked from Logan to Veronica, from Veronica to Joey. Her mouth hung open in surprise.

"Mac said you were living together, but I didn't know…" Parker's voice trailed off. "So what happened, exactly, while I was in Colorado this summer?" she asked weakly.

"Parker, this isn't what it looks like," Veronica said. Despite the severity of the situation, the irony of that statement was not lost on her. Hadn't Logan said those exact words to her less than a week ago? Veronica handed Joey to Logan and stepped a few paces closer to Parker. The poor girl looked bewildered.

"Oh my God… why didn't anyone tell me?" Parker was nearly hyperventilating. She sat down on the curb and wrapped her arms tightly around her midsection. "Mac and Wallace, they must know. They live here, they would have known. Why didn't someone say something?"

Logan opened his mouth to speak up, but Veronica shook her head. He remained silent as Veronica sat on the curb next to Parker and put her arm around the girl. "Parker, calm down. There was nothing to tell you about. Logan and I are just babysitting for a friend who's out of town for awhile."

Parker sniffled and looked at Veronica accusingly. "He looks just like you!"

"All babies look the same! He looks like you, too."

Parker drew a shaky breath and wiped her eyes. She glanced back at Logan and Joey. "You're really just babysitting?"

Logan nodded. "Just for a week or two. Family emergency," he hedged. Veronica hid her smile. Dick was going to need a trip to the emergency room when they told him about his son.

Parker nodded. "So why'd you need to find Veronica so badly?"

"It was about a case. A woman I've been working with has disappeared," Veronica told her. "Here's your phone back. Thanks."

"Oh," Parker said quietly while she fidgeted with the phone. She looked again from Logan to Veronica and seemed to come to some sort of decision.

"I… I'm really sorry I've been so awful," she said. Both Logan and Veronica started to speak, but Parker raised her hand in a silencing gesture. "No, don't. I've been a bitch, especially to you, Veronica. And that's not fair, because you were great when… when our situations were reversed."

She looked at the other girl timidly. "Think we can be friends again?"

Veronica hugged her. "Like you could get rid of us so easily."

The two girls stood up from the pavement. Parker moved over to Logan and wiggled the baby's bare toes. "So this is Joey?" she asked. "He's darling. If you guys need a break from babysitting, I'd be happy to fill in for you."

"We might take you up on that," Veronica said, smiling. "There's a reason teachers tell you to stay in school. It's a lot easier than taking care of kids."

"And there's less throwing up, which is impressive when you consider some of the fraternity parties," Logan added.

Parker laughed. "Good to know. So are you going back into the concert?" she asked Veronica.

"I think I need to find out more about this missing person. Have fun, though. Tell Mac I think Tyson is hot."

Parker waived and headed back to the club. Logan handed Veronica her cell phone. "You'll need this," he told her. He turned away to get Joey situated in his car seat.

Veronica dialed Ben Schuler. The agent picked up on the first ring. "Ms. Mars. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Logan found me and told me about Agent Rosenswag. Has she shown up yet?"

"No, there's no sign of her." The FBI man sounded gravely concerned for his partner, but there was business at hand. "I'm taking over surveillance on Gorya Sorokin. According to the message you intercepted, the shipment should be arriving tonight. Gory told his uncle he wanted some of the merchandise, so he should take us to wherever the Sorokins offload their illegally imported goods. I'll let you know when we're ready to move."

Schuler hung up. Veronica felt terrible. "If it hadn't been for the first raid on the warehouse, Gory wouldn't have suspected a tail. He never would have known to look for Rosenswag."

Logan started the X-Terra and they headed back to the Grand. "It's not your fault," he comforted her. "Rosenswag is a trained agent. We don't even know for sure that she's in trouble. Maybe she's just gone off-radar chasing down a lead."

Maybe, but Veronica wasn't so sure. "We'll see," she said simply.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

The call from Schuler came the following afternoon. Veronica and Logan were taking a break from their homework, strolling on the pier with Joey. It was a beautiful, carefree So-Cal day. They bought ice cream cones and watched the people walk by.

"You've got something on your face," Logan told Veronica.

She looked up from her happy reverie, "What? Where?"

He smeared a dab of mint chocolate chip across her cheek and grinned recklessly. "Right there."

"You jerk!" She punched him playfully in the arm.

"Here, let me get that for you," he said and licked the offending spot clean.

Veronica cracked up as he continued his attack. She pushed him away playfully. "Eww, boy slobber!"

Logan laughed. "Wait, I think I missed some." He advanced on her again, this time nibbling her ear. Veronica laughed hysterically. She was still laughing when Agent Schuler called to confirm the raid on the Sorokins' illegal importation business.

"One hour," Schuler told Veronica. He gave her the address.

Veronica's heart pounded. She was going to witness an FBI raid! Albeit, she was still technically a civilian and would be watching from a safe distance. Even so, Veronica was charged and ready for action.

"I'm actually kind of nervous," she admitted to Logan as they drove back to the Grand.

"What's there to be afraid of?"

She thought for a second. "Killer rabbits. Cottage cheese. Visagoths."

"Visagoths?"

"Oh, they're out there. Biding their time."

"I'm 86 percent certain there will be no killer rabbits or cottage cheese to hassle you tonight," Logan reassured her. "I can't vouch for the Visagoths."

"What I can't figure out is how Schuler knows where the Sorokins keep their goods," Veronica mused aloud. "The GPS tracker in Gory's phone says he hasn't left campus since Monday."

"Maybe he got wise and found the bug," Logan ventured. "Or left his phone in the dorm when he picked up the stuff from his uncle."

Veronica dropped off Logan and the baby outside the hotel lobby. Logan kissed her before she left. "Be careful," he instructed.

She smiled at him innocently. "Hey, it's me. What could possibly go wrong?" She waived farewell and pulled away from the curb.

Logan watched until she was out of sight, then went inside and pushed the button for his floor. "Hold the elevator!" someone shouted. A tan foot wedged itself in, and the doors bounced open again. Dick Casablancas tossed his bags inside, followed by his surfboard.

"Hola, amigo. What's happening?"

Logan stared at his best friend, taken off guard by his sudden appearance. The only greeting he could muster was a weak "hey."

The elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime. The lift rose smoothly upwards, accompanied by grating piped in muzack. Dick looked at Logan, then at baby Joey still strapped into his carrier. Joey waived his tiny arms and gurgled happily. "Dude, what's with the kid?"

**********

Logan was on the couch when Veronica returned to the suite. He had Joey and a business law textbook open in his lap. Veronica swooped down and kissed Logan flirtatiously. "Like you expect me to believe you've been reading all night," she teased.

"Just don't go in the bedroom. Joey's got a couple hookers hiding in the closet."

She hoisted the baby high in the air and gently touched noses with him. "Your daddy would be so proud!"

Logan closed his textbook and pulled Veronica into his now-vacant lap. He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her soft skin. "How'd your first FBI raid go? Did you solve the case? Catch the bad guys? Save the world? Rescue a kitten from a tree?"

Veronica's features darkened visibly. "Not so much. But I'm sure you can see for yourself on the evening news."

Logan reached for the remote and tuned into Channel 9. Sure enough, the FBI raid was the lead story. "Look, Joey! You're Auntie Ronnie is famous," Logan told the baby. Joey cooed happily in Veronica's arms and she kissed his hair.

"In a surprise raid this afternoon, federal officers discovered evidence of a large-scale human trafficking cartel here in Neptune," Martina Vasquez informed her audience. Veronica recalled that the late Sheriff Lamb had been a fan of the pretty reporter. "Special Agent Benjamin Schuler with the FBI gives us more details."

Schuler appeared onscreen. He'd been interviewed in front of a large container ship, the _Cherynko_. "People are the third most frequent illegal import in the United States, behind drugs and guns," he stated.

"Ten bucks says that question is on the final exam," Veronica offered.

Logan tickled her side, and she squirmed in his embrace. "Shh, I'm trying to burst my collegiate bubble with news of the real world."

"The victims of human trafficking are often girls as young as thirteen or fourteen who are kidnapped or sold into prostitution," Schuler continued.

The imaged changed, and suddenly Martina Vasquez was standing inside a crammed metal shipping container. "The FBI believes this box was used to transport the taken girls from Eastern Europe." The camera panned down so the viewers at home could see the soiled blankets and piles of trash covering the floor. "Sadly, officers arrived at the scene too late to rescue the victims of this crime, or to arrest those responsible." Ms. Vasquez said solemnly.

Schuler finished the piece with an optimistic sound bite. "The FBI is continuing our investigation into this matter. We will not stop until those girls are safe and their abductors are brought to justice."

"So the Sorokins are shipping in kidnapped girls?" Logan asked.

"That's what it looks like. Now if only we could find said girls, or evidence to link the Sorokins to their abductions." Veronica looked heartbroken.

"Any sign of Agent Rosenswag?"

"None. She's just… gone."

"So what now?"

Veronica shook her head. "I'm not sure. I guess I'll keep on Gory and see if he leads me to the girls. There's still his party, which I'm guessing will happen this weekend."

"I'm going with you," Logan told her.

"You're staying here with Joey," she corrected him. Logan opened his mouth to protest, but she held up her hand to silence him. "Logan, you made your choice. You're the one who wanted to keep Joey instead of giving him up to foster care. There's no way we can leave him alone."

Logan looked thoughtfully at the baby in Veronica's lap. Finally he asked, "Is this how it's going to be when we have kids? Are you going to turn up late for carpool with some lame excuse like being kidnapped at gunpoint or tracking down escaped murderers at the Mexican border?"

"I never really thought about it," Veronica answered truthfully.

"Do you want kids, someday?"

Veronica couldn't believe she and Logan were having this conversation. "I guess so, maybe," she said cautiously. "But I think the other soccer moms would hate me."

"Because of your ravishing good looks, or because any child of ours would be so obviously superior?"

Veronica laughed despite her surprise. "They would hate me because I'd know all their worst secrets. Who their husbands were cheating with. Which of them stole from the PTA bake sale. Who got a boob job for Christmas."

Logan smiled, too. "Hmm. I could see how that might make you unpopular. So you'd keep working, even with a baby?"

This was all too much for Veronica. Where was the Logan Echolls she knew and loved? The Logan who would gladly jump through a plate glass window, but couldn't commit to lunch the next day?

"Oh my God!" she asked him in false distress, "Are you pregnant?"

Logan laughed. "If it's a boy, we're naming him Harvey."

Veronica twisted around to kiss him. "It's time for Joey to count invisible rabbits. Let's go to bed."

"Actually, Joey may be sleeping with us tonight. Dick's room is already occupied."

Veronica looked at Logan quizzically. "I really thought you were kidding about the hookers."

"I doubt Dick's had time to call any yet. He's only been back a few hours."

"What?! Dick's here?" Veronica jumped up off the couch. "Has he seen Joey?"

"Oh, they met. And then Dick locked himself in his room." Logan shrugged helplessly. Veronica handed him the baby and strode across the suite.

"Dick, get out here!" She pounded on the surfer's bedroom door.

"Forget it!" came the muffled response.

Veronica tried the knob, but it wouldn't budge. Logan watched with interest. "Like I said, it's locked," he told her. Locked doors had never stopped Veronica Mars. She found her bag in the living room and rummaged for something. She went back to Dick's door.

"Dick, it's no use hiding," she called to him. "The evidence is right here in front of us. It's time to tell Logan the truth. About our little fling."

The door flew open. "What?!" Dick exclaimed. Veronica's camera flashed in his face.

"Gotcha," she grinned. Logan was also laughing.

"Dude, that is so not cool," Dick fumed, but Veronica's shoe prevented him from slamming the door shut in her face.

"And yet it's infinitely cooler than ignoring your own offspring," Veronica informed him.

"I want a paternity test!"

"We already took samples from your hairbrush and sent the test away last week. The results should come back in a couple more days," Veronica told him. "Meanwhile, it would help if we knew who the mother is. The note says Joey is eight months old. That means you must have… done the deed… around Spring Break our senior year."

"He's not mine!"

"Okay, but were you seeing anyone then?"

"Ronnie. Come on." Dick rolled his eyes at her. "I try not to date the girls I'm sleeping with."

Logan chimed in from the sofa. "There was the party at Madison's house. And at Casey's place. And Sean had that Beach Blanket Bingo Blowout. Who'd you hook up with there?"

"Dude, that was a year and half ago! I can't even remember if I put on deodorant this morning." Dick lifted his arm and sniffed. "Nope, I can't tell. What do you think?" he asked Veronica. He moved towards her, brandishing his armpit. She shoved him away impatiently.

"Dick, focus. Do you remember any names at all?"

"I remember most of them!" Veronica and Logan both looked skeptical. "Okay, but I remember some… or at least a couple," he amended. "It's not like I knew all of their names to begin with," he said defensively.

Veronica frowned at him. "You're disgusting."

"And you're short," Dick replied. "At least one of us has some hope of changing."

"Quiet you guys!" Logan turned up the volume on the television. Martina Vasquez was back with a breaking news story.

"This just in," she said breathlessly. "An Amber Alert has been issued in Balboa County. A child has been kidnapped, and authorities are asking anyone with information to step forward."

A picture of the missing child appeared onscreen. Veronica gasped when she saw the photograph. The kidnapped baby was identical to the one currently sitting in Logan's arms.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

"_Quiet you guys!" Logan turned up the volume on the television. Martina Vasquez was back with a breaking news story._

"_This just in," she said breathlessly. "An Amber Alert has been issued in Balboa County. A child has been kidnapped, and authorities are asking anyone with information to step forward."_

_A picture of the missing child appeared onscreen. Veronica gasped when she saw the photograph. The kidnapped baby was identical to the one currently sitting in Logan's arms._

The image changed, and Sheriff Vinnie Van Lowe was shown standing next to a tearful girl. The young woman looked familiar.

"Isn't that-?" Logan searched for a name.

"Molly Fitzpatrick," Veronica supplied. Her eyes were glued to the television. "We went to high school with her. She's Liam Fitzpatrick's niece."

"Dude. I don't remember if I fucked her in high school, but I'd sure like to now," Dick commented. Logan rolled his eyes, then turned his attention back to the TV.

Vinnie held Molly's shoulders sympathetically as she sobbed. "Whoever has my baby, I just want him to be safe. Please keep my baby safe." On her other side, Liam Fitzpatrick stood rigidly. Rather than tears, Molly's uncle had fire in his eyes.

"If anyone knows the whereabouts of Joey Fitzpatrick, please call 911 immediately," said Martina Vasquez.

Veronica turned to Dick and Logan. "I think we found Joey's mother."

**********

Thursday morning dawned dimly in Los Angeles. The weak morning sun could barely cut through the thick smog. Keith rubbed his bleary eyes and shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat of his sedan. He had rented a hotel room, but had spent last night staked out in front of Jiggles Gentlemen's Club. As Logan had remarked, "classy" was the word that facetiously sprang to mind.

Keith suspected Jiggles was more than a sleazy strip joint. He had gone inside and caught a quick peek of some guy coming up from the basement. The guy was Russian. The door was locked. Sure, it could be where the bartender stored the extra booze, but that wouldn't explain the parade of oily-haired thugs and beautiful girls parading up and down the stairs. Keith had watched from his seat at the bar until he was satisfied. This had to be the location of the hidden pornography studio where Sivya Denisovitch was filmed.

The bar had closed at 2 a.m., but Keith lingered outside. From where he was parked, he could see the main entrance as well as the alley running alongside the building. Finally, just after sunrise, the service entrance opened and three woman walked outside into the dull morning light. They were accompanied by two burly men.

Keith left his car and walked a few paces into the dark alley. He couldn't tell if the men were there to protect the girls or prevent their escape. One man pulled a set of car keys out of his pocket and started in the opposite direction down the narrow lane. Keith assumed he was going to get a vehicle. The other man lit up a cigarette and blew a cloud of noxious smoke towards the women. One coughed and turned away. The man laughed, saying something in Russian that was obviously of ill humor.

From inside, someone called to the man in the alley. He answered back, then threw his cigarette to the ground and ducked inside. Keith saw his opportunity and took it.

"Good morning," he called cheerfully. The women didn't respond, but Keith pressed forward anyway. "Nice day, isn't it? Say, you don't work here, do you? I'm looking for someone. Sivya Denisovitch." He brandished the photo Sivya's sister Natasha had given him.

One of the girls took the picture. She wore tall boots that laced up to her knees and a short green leather skirt that didn't quite conceal her undergarments. At first Keith thought she was in her mid-twenties, but now he wasn't sure. Under the heavy makeup, she didn't look a day over eighteen. Her oversize earrings danced as she nodded her head in recognition. "Sivya," she repeated. She turned to her two companions and spoke in rapid-fire Russian.

"Do you know her?" Keith asked. "Do you know where Sivya is?"

The girl in the boots waived Sivya's photo. One of her friends shrugged, looking uncertain. The other simply turned away, her lips pursed. She wore a thin cotton dress with a neckline that plunged to her navel. In the chill morning air, Keith could see she wasn't wearing a bra. Boots pushed Sivya's photo under the girl's nose, but she shied away.

Keith tried again. "Please, I'm here to help Sivya. Her sister wants her to come home. Do you know where I can find her?"

The girl in the dress shook her head. "Nyet. Sivya, nyet." Boots handed the photograph back to Keith. He gave the girl in the dress his business card, quickly scribbling the name of his hotel and the room number on the back.

"If you see her, if you see Sivya, please tell her Natasha is looking for her," Keith said. The girl merely looked at the card in his outstretched hand, as if she were unsure whether to accept it or not. "Please," Keith repeated.

There was a noise from within the service entrance. In a flash, the girl's hand whipped out and snatched the card from Keith. She tucked it inside her dress seconds before the goon with the cigarettes charged through the open doorway at Keith. "Hey! What you think you are doing?"

The girl in the dress blanched visibly and studied the garbage-strewn pavement with intense concentration.

"Just speaking with these lovely ladies. It's a free country. Talking to pretty girls is still allowed, isn't it?" Keith challenged.

The thug studied Keith with heavily hooded eyes. "Beat it, asshole. These girls are pay to play, you understand me?"

A dirty gray van turned into the alley, the other guard in the driver's seat. Keith eased slowly towards the street where he'd parked. "I hear you. Have a nice day."

He went back to his car, intending to follow the van and see where the girls lived. Unfortunately, all four of his tires were flat. How suspiciously inconvenient. Keith watched helplessly as the girls were loaded into the van. One of the thugs flipped him the bird as they drove past.

**********

Veronica sat with her friends at lunch. "I think Piz is more in love with your boyfriend than you are," she told Mac jokingly.

It was true the young radio host was monopolizing most of Tyson's time at the lunch table. "This is what happens when you date a rock star," Mac told her friend. "You have to put up with the other groupies."

"Groupies? I thought groupies were only in it for the sex. Piz loves the music. He's definitely a Band Aid," Parker said.

"Fine. Piz can be a Band Aid. I'm still a groupie." The girls all laughed.

Parker glanced at her watch. "Shoot, I'm late for class. Later, girlfriends!" Piz and Tyson looked up from their conversation. "And man friends," she added. They boys resumed their talk of Jack White and Whitestripes' complete works.

"Speaking of lo-ove," Mac teased, drawing the word out, "Parker says you and Logan are playing house? What's that about? You're not going all girly-girl Betty Crocker domestic on me, are you Mars?"

Veronica blushed and stabbed at her fettuccini with a fork. "I have yet to bake any cakes," she said defensively.

"But you are living with your boyfriend, and taking care of a baby."

"True, but only temporarily."

Mac smiled patronizingly. "That's still one giant leap, Buzz. How is Logan handling it?"

Veronica squirmed in her chair, clearly uncomfortable with this public discussion of her love life. "Honestly, I think he's enjoying it more than I am," she said, thinking of their conversation the previous evening. "The weird part is, he's actually studying harder and making better grades. It's like he needed a reason not to be a screw-off."

"I like rainbow-chip cupcakes, just for the record. In case you feel the urge."

Veronica flung her breadstick in Mac's general direction. Tyson and Piz caught the tail-end of their conversation. "Is someone baking?" Tyson asked eagerly. "I like lemon bars."

Veronica stood. "That's it, I'm leaving now." She stalked away, leaving Tyson looking confused.

"Brownies are good, too!" he called after her. Mac howled with laughter.

Veronica had an appointment to meet "Professor" Schuler in his office before class. She threaded through the crowded cafeteria, heading towards the conveyor belt that would magically whisk her food tray away. She wished doing the dishes at home were so simple.

Still dwelling on complicated thoughts of Logan and their thriving relationship, Veronica didn't notice her surroundings until rough hands threw her into a vacant chair. Before she could react, Gorya Sorokin was in her face. "Do I have you to thank for the FBI visit to my family's business?" he snarled. He slammed the bug Veronica had planted onto the table in front of her.

Veronica didn't answer. Instead, she glanced at Gory's lunch companions also sitting at the table. "Looking forward to the party Friday night?" she asked them.

One of the guys looked confused. "Dude, I thought the party was Saturday?"

Veronica smiled at Gory sweetly. He kicked her chair, hard. "You never give up. Do you know what that makes you, Veronica Mars?"

"Tenacious V?" she answered breathlessly.

"That makes you a dead girl!" he hissed.

Mac, Piz and Tyson had seen the commotion and were hustling across the room. Someone else got there first. "Walk away, pal, while you still have legs," Weevil threatened. He placed himself in front of Veronica and shoved Gory's chest.

Veronica grabbed the bug and stood shakily. She backed away from Gory's table, pulling Weevil with her. She waived to her friends to indicate she was unharmed, then she and Weevil exited the Student Union Building into the sunny academic quad.

"Thanks," she told him. "I thought you usually spent lunch in your car?"

"I'm trying to be more social. It makes for a better alibi."

Veronica let the comment pass. She had a nagging suspicion that Eli Navarro was up to no good. If that was the case, she simply didn't want to know about it.

"So I'm curious, V. Is your life always a three-ring circus, or is it only when I'm around?" Weevil asked her.

"I'm thinking of investing in a white tiger. I think it could really boost ticket sales," Veronica quipped casually. The two friends caught up while Weevil walked Veronica to her appointment with Schuler.

He left her with a parting gift. "You want to make that jerk pay, just say the word. I can be creative."

"Thanks, Weevs. I'll seriously consider it." Veronica knocked lightly and entered the office she had visited many times when it was Professor Hank Landry's, and briefly Tim Foyle's. This time, however, it was Ben Schuler who sat behind the desk.

"Ah, Miss Mars. I'm glad you could make it."

"If you beckon, I will come," she answered. "By the way, Gorya Sorokin's big soiree is Saturday night. He gave this to me as a party favor." She showed Schuler the bug that had been in Gory's phone.

"So the Sorokins _were_ tipped off," Schuler mused. "I guess we know where Agent Rosenswag has disappeared to."

"You think she told them about the bug? And the raid?"

"Turncoats and spies are more common in the Organized Crime Unit than you'd think," Schuler said bitterly. "The money's too good for some people to pass up."

"Don't you trust her?"

"Veronica, in this business you can't trust anybody."


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

"Parker, you're sure you're okay with this?" Veronica asked for the third time.

"Go!" she said. "You and Logan go take of business. Joey will be just fine."

"It's not Joey I'm worried about," Veronica stated flatly. Behind them, Logan and Dick were in the midst of a loud argument.

"Dude, it's Thirsty Thursday!" Dick shouted. "I made a sacred pledge to my fraternal order that I would respect the holy days. You hired a babysitter. What do you need me for?"

"He's your son!" Logan fumed. "Take some responsibility, douchebag!"

"You don't know that he's mine. And until someone can prove it, I'm not lifting a finger." Dick flopped on the couch, his arms crossed and his lips pouting.

"Fine, whatever man." Logan snapped. "Just stay here."

He moved to stand next to Veronica at the door. "I'm sorry we had to call you on such short notice," he said to Parker.

"It's okay," she reassured him. "I can see why you needed me."

Veronica kissed Joey goodbye. "Be good," she told him.

"You too," she called to Dick. "Try to be helpful tonight."

Dick turned to Parker. "I'd offer moral support, but I have questionable morals."

Logan marched out the front door, furious. "Call if he gets out of hand," Veronica told Parker.

"I'm sure Joey will be the perfect gentleman."

"I was talking about Dick."

When Veronica had announced she was going to confront Molly Fitzpatrick about Joey's "kidnapping", Logan had insisted he accompany her. Dick, unfortunately refused point blank to watch Joey while Logan and Veronica were out. The only solution had been to take Parker up on her offer to babysit.

Logan had worried it would be awkward asking Parker for help, but since he adamantly refused to let Veronica near the Fitzpatricks alone, he had finally consented to calling his ex-girlfriend. Thankfully, Parker hand responded with good grace when they told her about the situation.

"I can be there after six," she told them.

Veronica wasn't sure how they were going to approach Molly Fitzpatrick. She knew Molly worked as a barmaid for her uncle at the River Stix, but Veronica was keen to avoid the place. Over the years, she had had a number of bad experiences there, thanks mostly to Liam Fitzpatrick and his crony Danny Boyle. She and Logan finally settled for a stakeout behind the building. Veronica brought her taser. She chose not to ask Logan if he was armed. She didn't think she'd like the answer either way.

The two sat in Veronica's Saturn. The young PI kept her eyes on the building, but Logan was already fidgeting beside her. He raised and lowered his seat back experimentally and stretched from his prone position. "Did you know this seat can lay completely flat?"

"I did know that. Of course, staring at the ceiling might make it difficult to spot Molly."

"True. But it definitely makes this car more appealing for other nighttime activities." He grinned rakishly at her.

Veronica laughed. "Sorry, lover. That seat is the only thing going all the way down tonight."

He lifted the lever and raised himself upright again. "How about a game of Strip I-Spy?"

"Hmm… " She pretended to consider it. "I still don't think you'd be watching the bar if I started losing."

Logan sighed morosely. "You're killing me, Mars."

The two passed several quiet hours listening to music and chatting. During a lull in the conversation, Veronica took Logan's left hand in her lap and doodled on his cast with a felt-tipped pen. Logan couldn't tell what she was writing, but he watched her intently. He loved her. He had known that for years, even in the long periods when they were separated. Something had changed, though. Logan considered how much he enjoyed having Veronica live with him at the Neptune Grand. After just a couple weeks, Logan had become accustomed to sharing his bed with her soft, warm body every night, and to kissing her goodbye in the mornings when she left for class. He was going to be lonely when Veronica's father came home and things returned to status quo.

Veronica looked up from her artistic renderings and saw Logan watching her, smiling slightly. "What?" she asked. A small smile played on her lips as well.

"Nothing."

Veronica kissed his cast and released his arm. "There. What do you think?"

Cartoon bubble letters spelled out "IN CASE FOUND, RETURN TO VERONICA." Her lipstick served as her signature.

"A masterpiece," Logan told her. He pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers. At first she returned his advances, but then she suddenly pulled away.

"Logan," she whispered.

"Mmm…"

"Logan, it's her! It's Molly!"

He peered through the windshield, squinting in the darkness. Sure enough, a familiar full-figured blond girl their own age had emerged from the rear exit of the River Stix. She was struggling with a heavy trash bag. Logan and Veronica tumbled out of the Saturn and strolled casually towards her.

"Need a hand with that?" Logan asked.

"Sure, thanks." Molly looked up from her labors and immediately recognized both her former classmates. She gasped and dropped the bag, attempting to flee. Logan grabbed her arms to prevent her from running inside.

"Calm down!" Veronica instructed as Molly fought to break Logan's tight grasp. "Molly, we know where Joey is. Just calm down, and we'll get him back to you."

To Veronica's surprise, Molly burst into tears. "No, don't! He's not safe here with me. You have to keep him away!"


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

Logan released Molly in surprise. She backed away to face both him and Veronica. "Please," she begged them. "It's for Joey's own good. He's not safe here!"

"I don't understand. You were on the news last night claiming Joey was kidnapped," Veronica reminded her.

"It's a long story…"

Veronica pulled out her cell phone and waived it threateningly. "Then talk fast, before I call the Sheriff and tell him you cried wolf."

"No, don't!" Molly cried in a strangled whisper. She moved towards Veronica, but Logan shifted between them and blocked her way. Molly swallowed hard and backed off a few paces, glancing nervously over her shoulder at the back door of the River Stix.

"The Sheriff is on Uncle Liam's payrolls," Molly told them. "Vinnie gets a cut of the take from the burglaries happening all over town, in return for keeping the heat off of Uncle Liam and Danny Boyle."

Veronica had suspected as much, but her blood ran cold hearing her theories confirmed. "Keep talking," she instructed Molly.

The girl sobbed a little but nodded. "Uncle Liam, he… he killed my boyfriend Felix when we were in high school. I started watching Liam real close, trying to find evidence I could use to turn him over to Sheriff Lamb. But then I got pregnant with Joey." She sniffed and wiped the mascara running from her heavily painted eyes. "Why are you here? Did Dick ask you to come? Is Joey with him?"

"Dick's my roommate," Logan told her. "You said in your note that Joey is his son. Why didn't you tell Dick before?"

"I tried. We… we hooked up at Sean's beach party spring break our senior year. I found out I was pregnant just before graduation. I saw Dick at our senior party at the Neptune Grand and told him I needed to talk to him about us. He said…" Molly faltered, then took a deep breath. "He said, _'Babe, I'm flattered. If I had the emotional maturity for a relationship, you'd be at the top of my list.' _He walked away from me, and his little brother killed himself twenty minutes later. I didn't see Dick again after that. I heard he'd left the country."

Veronica and Logan stole glances at one another. They recalled the evening of Cassidy Casablancas' death vividly.

"So why come to Dick now?" Veronica asked.

"When Dick left, I didn't have anywhere else to go. Uncle Liam gave me a job here at the bar. My mom kicked me out of the house when I told her I was knocked up, but Liam made sure I had a roof over my head. But he's a bad man, Veronica." Molly looked at the other girl, desperately seeking her understanding. "He killed my father, his brother Cormac. And Kendall Casablancas."

"If you knew all of this about Felix, Cormac, and Kendall, why didn't you go to Sheriff Lamb?"

"I know what I heard, but I didn't have any proof! Lamb would've laughed my sorry butt right out of the station, and then Liam would have killed me for my troubles. I had Joey to think about," Molly said defensively.

"Things really went to hell when Liam and Vinnie Van Lowe made their deal," she continued. "Danny and Liam started hitting Oh-Niner mansions, trying to make your dad look bad," she told Veronica. "Once Vinnie was elected Sheriff, Liam moved on to the cheaper parts of town. Vinnie turns a blind eye, and Liam runs amok. Only people are starting to catch on, right? Vinnie's starting to look bad. So I made him a deal. I said I would show him where Uncle Liam and Danny Boyle keep their stolen goods, if Vinnie got me and Joey the hell out of here."

"Sounds like a good deal. So what happened?" Logan asked.

"Liam found out. I don't know if Vinnie told him, or if he found out some other way, but word got back. Liam threatened to kill Joey if I talked. I was so scared. He said he'd kill my baby!" the girl sobbed.

"So you took Joey to the Neptune Grand and gave him to Dick for safekeeping," Veronica surmised. "Why the fake kidnapping?"

Molly wiped her nose on her apron. "Liam figured out Joey was missing. I didn't know what else to say, except that he'd been taken. If Liam found out I'd stashed Joey somewhere, we'd both be dead."

Veronica's mind spun trying to make sense of Molly's story. The facts seemed to fit, and Molly didn't appear to be lying. "And you're sure Dick's the father?"

Molly hesitated. "No. Not entirely sure, I guess. But I think he is." She looked Veronica square in the eye. "I don't want to give up my son. I want Joey back. But if keeping him safe means giving him to Dick Casablancas, then that's what I'll do."

Veronica looked at Logan. He, too, appeared shocked at the tale they'd just heard. And concerned. Logan knew as well as Veronica that Dick was a less than willing guardian. The paternity test results were due any day. Even if they came back a positive match, it was obvious baby Joey would be much better off with Molly. But only if they were a long ways from Neptune, and Liam Fitzpatrick. Veronica thought about the original deal Molly had struck with Vinnie Van Lowe, and a light bulb turned on in her head.

"Molly, you're sure you know where Liam and Danny keep the stuff they steal? " Veronica asked excitedly.

"Yeah, but there's no way I'm going to tell the Sheriff's Department about it," Molly said flatly. "That place leaks like a colander. Liam would find out for sure if I snitched."

"What about the things taken from Hearst College last week? Would that be with the other stolen goods?"

"Yeah, sure. That stuff is still too hot to fence, even with Vinnie as Sheriff."

Veronica's heart pounded wildly in her chest. Gorya Sorokin's computer was among the items taken from Hearst. She recalled Gory's panicked conversation with his Uncle Lev the night of the Baran Hall buglary:

"_My computer has some stuff on it, Uncle Lev. Some stuff that could get me into real trouble."_

Molly Fitzpatrick knew where Gory's computer was hidden, the computer that Gory believed held evidence of some wrongdoing. Veronica had to get that computer.

A slow smile crossed Veronica's face as she formulated a plan. "Molly, how would you and Joey feel about entering the federal witness protection program?" she asked. "A new name, a new life. A steady job with a good paycheck and a house of your own."

The girl stared at her in surprise. "How do you expect to pull that off?"

Logan grinned. "Oh, she knows people."

**********

"What do you think is on Gory's computer?" Logan asked.

It was well after midnight by the time he and Veronica pulled into the parking garage at the Neptune Grand. Home suite home, such as it were.

"I don't know," Veronica replied in response to Logan's question. "I hope it's connected to the trafficking case. I'll be pissed if we go through all this trouble getting Molly into witness protection and it turns out Gory's been buying collectable bobble heads using stolen credit cards."

The couple were weary but elated as they rode the elevator up to Logan's floor. Logan pulled Veronica into his arms. "Not a bad night's work, sweet cheeks. Not many guys can brag their girlfriend came up with a plan to take down two notorious crime families in one fell swoop." His eyes danced mischievously as bent down to kiss her. "I'm so proud."

"Mmm… feel like celebrating?"

Instead of answering, Logan picked Veronica up and threw her over his shoulder. He jabbed the button for his floor impatiently. "This damn thing better hurry up," he growled.

Veronica laughed and struggled to free herself. Finally, the doors slide open and Logan set her down. The two clumsily made their way down the long hallway, their lips love-locked the entire way.

"Just let me pay Parker and send her on her way," Logan told Veronica outside the door of their suite. "Think you can keep your hands off me that long?"

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I can keep my hands off you all night, if you'd prefer," she said smiling.

He grinned back. "Only if we're playing Strip I-Spy." He swiped his key card.

Parker was there to greet them. She was obviously distressed. "Thank God you're here! I'm so sorry, I didn't know what to do-"

"What's wrong? Is Joey okay?" Veronica dashed past Parker into the living room, Logan hot on her heels. They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw who was waiting for them.

Joey was doing just fine. In fact, he was laughing merrily as the man sitting on Logan's sofa bounced him gently on one knee.

The man looked up from the bouncing baby as Logan and Veronica entered. "Care to explain what little Joey is doing here?" he asked.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

"So how about it, Veronica? Feel like sharing why you and Logan Echolls kidnapped baby Joey here?" Deputy Leo D'Amato asked.

Parker apologized again to Logan and Veronica. "I'm sorry -- he got here right before you did. He said I should let him in, or else he'd come back with the Sheriff and arrest warrants for both of you."

"I still might," Leo clarified.

"You're friends, though, right?" Parker asked Veronica nervously. "Weren't you guys talking after the Hearst robbery?"

Veronica sighed and dropped heavily into an overstuffed club chair. "Yes, we're friends. Which is why Leo's not going to tell Sheriff Vinnie what he saw here tonight."

Leo looked uneasy. "No promises, Veronica. The last time I checked, kidnapping still came with a hefty prison sentence. I don't know about you, but I'm too young and pretty for San Quentin."

"Kidnapping?!" Parker blanched visibly. "You said you were watching Joey for a friend!"

"Do they not teach euphemisms in Colorado?" Logan questioned her. "Because what we were trying to say is that we'd stolen the Lindbergh baby."

"This isn't a joke, Logan!" Parker snapped at him.

"She's right, it's not a joke. What's going on?" Leo asked Veronica. "I spent all day canvassing local hospitals, and one nurse remembered a cute blond girl with a photo of the kid. I figure you're working the kidnapping case, and come here to compare notes. Only you've already found Joey Fitzpatrick. So where did you find him, and why haven't you turned him over yet?"

"Just trust me when I say we're keeping Joey safe," Veronica pleaded. "And if everything goes according to plan, he'll be with his mother in less than forty-eight hours."

Leo smiled sadly. "You're not going to tell me what this is about, are you?"

"No."

"Not even if I bring you in on kidnapping charges?"

"How about this," Veronica negotiated, "you give us forty-eight hours to get Joey back to Molly Fitzpatrick. You don't say a word to anyone at the station. And in return, we give you enough evidence to arrest Liam and Danny Boyle for all the burglaries that have been causing you so much grief."

"Veronica," Parker said in a panicked whisper, "You're bribing a cop!"

Leo laughed. "She's bargaining with a cop," he corrected her.

"Besides, Leo here's not opposed to bribes. Are you, Deputy?" Logan glared fiercely at the other man.

"Logan!" Veronica hissed warningly.

Leo's spine stiffened in anger. "Watch it, Echolls," he growled.

Logan laughed with ill-humor. "You know, that's funny," he said sarcastically, "because I did watch it. I watched every minute of those tapes you sold me. You remember, the tapes that were going to convict my dad of murdering my girlfriend? And it only cost me fifty thousand. So how about it, Deputy? Want to make a deal, for old times' sake?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

Leo stood, one hand holding the baby and the other resting lightly on his gun. "I'm taking Joey back to the station," he told Veronica. His face was a mask of fury. "I'll try to leave your name out of this."

"You do that, and you might as well kill that baby yourself," Veronica told him. "Joey and his mother will be dead if anyone at the Sheriff's Department even smells the kid."

"You're telling me that we've got a rat?" he asked skeptically.

"I'm telling you that rat has a badge that reads 'SHERIFF' in big bold letters across the front, and that he's got a wee bit o'Irish in him. Vinnie is still working for the Fitzpatricks. And that is not good news for baby Joey."

Leo shook his head. "I can't just walk away from this. Joey was reported kidnapped. I have to return him to his mother." He moved as though to leave the suite, but Logan was suddenly blocking his way.

"Please, Leo," Veronica implored him. "Please don't bring Joey in. He's safer here."

"And I'm supposed to take your word for it?" Leo asked sharply. "I'm sorry, Veronica, but you don't have much practice telling the truth. At least not to me. What's to stop you from stashing this kid like you did Duncan Kane and the Manning baby? If I leave here tonight, Joey could disappear too."

"You're not going anywhere with that baby," Logan told him.

"Get out of my way," Leo said threateningly.

"What are you going to do, shoot me?" Logan stepped closer, his fists clenched.

Veronica also moved nearer. "Logan, cool it!"

Leo handed her the baby. "Go ahead, Echolls, take a swing. I dare you. Give me a reason to get into it with you."

Logan looked at Veronica. "I'm sorry," he told her.

"It's okay, just calm-"

Logan slammed his fist into Leo's face, sending the deputy crashing onto the coffee table. Logan jumped on top of him, and the two went spinning onto the floor in a mad flurry of arms and legs.

"-down," Veronica finished lamely.

"Logan!" Parker screamed as Veronica dragged her and Joey out of danger.

Leo managed to get the upper hand and threw Logan bodily into a wall. Blood smeared the paint. Logan rebounded and head-butted the deputy, sending them both careening to the ground once more. As quickly as the fight began, suddenly it was over. In a flash of silver, Leo had Logan handcuffed and hauled the younger man to his feet.

The room was tense with silence. "Are we going to jail now?" Parker asked timidly.

Leo was still breathing heavily. He touched his split lip gingerly. "Not you," he told her.

Veronica hugged Joey to her chest. "The deal still stands, Leo. Give us two days to return Joey safely to Molly. We'll give you everything you need to bust the rest of the Fitzpatricks for grand theft."

Logan's hands were shackled behind his back. Leo held him roughly by his collar. The deputy looked between Logan and Veronica. "Forty-eight hours," he relented. "But Logan stays in jail for assault until Molly Fitzpatrick gets her son back. If Joey disappears, I'll change it to kidnapping and put you there with him."

Leo strong-armed Logan towards the door. Despite his bloody face, Logan appeared downright cheerful. "I'll be eagerly awaiting my conjugal visit, Buttercup," he called to Veronica before the door slammed shut behind them.

Veronica snickered a little as she shifted Joey to her left hip and hit speed dial on her phone.

"How is this at all funny?" Parker's voice was shaking as much as her body. "Logan just got arrested!"

"Don't worry about it. Logan rocks the jailhouse harder than Elvis. Although come to think of it, maybe I should bring him his blue suede shoes…" Veronica trailed off thoughtfully. She quickly snapped to attention when a familiar voice answered her call.

"Hi, Cliff. Watcha doing?" she listened for a moment, then forged ahead hastily. "Never mind, I don't need to know. Listen, would you mind putting on some lawyerly clothes and representing Logan at the Sheriff's Department? He was just arrested for assaulting an officer. No, he's guilty. I doubt they're going to give him bail tonight, but could you at least make sure he gets one of the better accommodations? Cell B in particular has such nice morning light. Thanks, Cliffy."

Parker still looked frazzled by the night's events as she gathered her jacket and school bag from the dining room. "Oh, I almost forgot," she said. "Dick left for a party at the Pi Sig house. He said to give you this." She handed Veronica an envelope, then departed.

Veronica was left holding Joey. Together they took in the wreckage that was once Logan's living room. "Looks like it's just you and me, kid."

She studied the envelope in her hand. The return address was listed as _Genetech Diagnostics Center_. It was the results of the paternity test.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

"Smile and say felony indictment!" Logan looked up from his bunk in the holding cell just as Veronica snapped a photo.

"Have you come with good news, or are you just stopping by to gloat?" he asked wryly.

"Hmm… mostly gloating." She studied the tiny camera screen. "Ah, sweet memories. I'll have to add this one to our scrapbook of special moments."

"Going to submit our names for this year's 'Most Notorious Couple' award?"

"That bitch Bonnie just won't shut up about her man Clyde, but I think this could win it for us. Way to take one for the team, lover."

"Where's-"

Veronica held up a cautionary hand. "This is Vinnie's turf now. I'm sure this room has more bugs than an ant farm."

Logan caught her drift; no talk about Joey. He nodded to show he recognized their compromised situation. "How was class?" he asked instead.

"Same-old, same-old," Veronica replied casually. "Wise people talked. I learned."

"Did you ask Professor Schuler about your extra-credit project?"

"Yup. He said he'd be willing to give me a get out of jail free card in exchange for a report on cyber crimes," Veronica told him. Logan understood the subtext; Schuler had approved Molly's request for federal protection in exchange for evidence against her Uncle Liam, including the computer he had stolen from Gorya Sorokin.

"A get out of jail free card, I could use one of those about now," Logan said.

"You should be out of here by the time I finish my report on Saturday. We'll celebrate the end of cruel and unusual punishment together."

"Think you could give me something good to remember until then?" Logan asked roguishly.

Veronica drew closer until Logan could smell the strawberry lip gloss she used. He leaned forward in anticipation. "Remember not to drop your soap in the shower," she told him in a low, sexy voice.

Logan rolled his eyes. "Thanks. That'll get me through the long, lonely hours in the big house."

Veronica grinned and kissed him between the bars of his cell. Logan responded enthusiastically, but Veronica pulled away. She murmured in his ear, "You should know, the paternity test came back negative. Joey isn't Dick's son."

Logan closed his eyes and rested his head against the cold steel bars. "Does it matter?" he asked.

"No. I guess not."

************

Keith's stomach growled, a noisy reminder that he had missed breakfast and that it was nearly time for lunch. Keith had watched Jiggles Gentleman's Club all morning, and finally his diligence paid off. Just as he was about give up and go in search of a cheeseburger, a familiar gray van appeared in the alley behind the strip joint. Like before, a number of beautiful young women were herded into the vehicle by some mean looking thugs. This time Keith was ready. Hanging back far enough so he wouldn't be noticed, Keith slipped into the light morning traffic in pursuit of the van.

The driver avoided the freeway, opting instead for a more roundabout route through East Compton. Not a neighborhood Norman Rockwell ever envisioned, Keith suspected. Graffiti covered every fence and telephone pole. Most of the grungy houses sported more Astroturf than lawn.

The van pulled up to a stop sign, waiting to cross a busy intersection. Keith had no choice but to halt directly behind his mark. He slouched low in his seat, hoping the driver wouldn't realize he was being tailed. Keith studied the Russian goon's reflection in the van's side mirror. Suddenly, the man was staring back at Keith. Their eyes met, the Russian's narrowing in spite. Without warning, the van leaped into traffic. Several horns sounded in anger and alarm as drivers swerved to avoid the gray van, but it managed to survive unscathed.

"Shit!" Keith swore. He gunned his sedan, but immediately slammed on his breaks to avoid colliding with a large pickup truck. The truck's owner flipped him off and sped away.

Keith struck his steering wheel in frustration. "Shit!" he yelled again. The gray van had disappeared.

**********

"I'm going to die of malnutrition in this place," Parker complained. She and Mac sat in the Hearst cafeteria, staring at their lunches.

"Be reasonable. What's worse, meatloaf or death?" Mac asked.

"Meatloaf."

Mac sighed and pushed her plate away. "I concur."

Tyson slide into the vacant chair next to her. "Meatloaf, excellent!" He grabbed Mac's fork and ate with gusto. The two girls looked at him in disgust. "Were you going to eat this?" he asked innocently.

"Go to town," Mac told him dubiously.

Wallace and Piz were close behind Tyson with their own trays piled high. "So has anyone else heard the rumor that Logan Echolls was arrested last night for getting into a bar fight with three cops?" Wallace quizzed them.

"It was only one deputy, and the fight was in his hotel suite," Parker reported.

All eyes turned to her. "You were there?" Tyson asked, a forkful of meatloaf paused halfway to his mouth.

"Logan went Tonya Harding crazy," Parker confirmed. "And I can't believe Veronica was so chill when he was arrested! I would've freaked out if he'd done something like this while we were dating. I pretty much freaked out anyway."

"The boy did have a surprisingly long stretch without jail time when he was with you," Veronica agreed. Parker jumped in her seat as the other girl approached from behind. Veronica laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, you handled last night like a champ."

Mac frowned thoughtfully. "If Logan is in jail, and you're here, then…. where's the kid?"

"Hello to you, too." Veronica laughed. "Poor Parker had a tough night babysitting, so Joey's with his Manny Weevil today."

"I'm sorry, his 'Manny' Weevil?" Piz clarified.

"Weevil's a man. He's a nanny. He's a Manny."

Wallace guffawed. "That I'd like to see. Tough guy PCH-er turned Manny."

Veronica grinned. "And I come bearing yet more gifts. You'll be getting your stolen stuff back soon," she told Mac and Parker.

Mac perked up. "Sweet! Did the Fitzpatricks get busted?"

"Not yet." Veronica's eyes glinted with determination. "But Liam Fitzpatrick is going to find out that _Mars Attacks_ is more than just the worst ensemble movie ever made. Tomorrow I'm giving Leo the evidence he needs to put the Fitzpatricks away in exchange for Logan."

Parker cleared her throat. "Speaking of Deputy D'Amato," she began hesitantly, "he's not… available, is he?"

"What, you have a thing for anyone who can subdue your ex-boyfriend so easily?" Veronica teased.

"The Dirty Harry act was a little intimidating, but the handcuffs were a turn-on," Parker admitted.

"And now we've ventured into the scary world of girl talk," Tyson remarked. He kissed Mac on the cheek. "Sorry, babe, that's my cue to exit stage left."

Veronica laughed. "I'll make sure Leo gets your number," she told Parker. She got up from the table as well. "Meanwhile, I'd better work on getting my own man out of the slammer."

Veronica's friends watched her and Tyson depart. "Dude, everyone is getting the hook-up except us! We've got to find some girls," exclaimed Wallace.

"Yeah," Piz agreed, "maybe this year we'll actually get to use the signal we devised to indicate one of us is having sex in our dorm room."

"Doubtful."

"It's not looking too good from here either, buddy."


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

Keith longed to be eating sugary cereal and watching Saturday morning cartoons with his daughter. Instead, he spent his morning searching for the gray van from Jiggles Gentlemen's Club. He was convinced that Sivya Denisovitch was being held with the other girls he'd seen working the sleazy strip joint, and had scoured the East Compton neighborhood where he had last seen the van. Despite his convictions, Keith was forced to admit that Sivya could be hidden anywhere in Los Angeles.

Tired and discouraged, Keith couldn't shake feeling homesick for his crummy apartment and his beautiful little girl. Not that she was so little anymore; Keith cringed at the thought of Veronica and Logan co-habitating. He was still kicking himself for suggesting Veronica stay with her boyfriend. After a few minutes of mentally wrestling his emotions, Keith finally gave in to fatherly instincts and called his daughter.

"Hey, Pop. How are Snap and Crackle?" she answered.

"Good morning, sweetie. I hope I'm not interrupting as you roll up your Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles sleeping bag from Logan's couch."

"Already done. Right now I'm making breakfast for our secret love child." She winked conspiratorially at baby Joey and fed him a spoonful of oatmeal. What her dad didn't know wouldn't get her locked in a closet for life.

"Riddle me this, Bat Girl. If you were an evil villain hiding kidnapped girls, where would you stash them?"

"A tacky Technicolor secret lair complete with shark pits, laser beams, and a back door the henchmen never remember to lock?" Veronica offered.

"Good henchmen are so hard to find these days. Anywhere else?"

"Somewhere on the handy-dandy list of Sorokin properties I emailed you a few days ago?"

Keith slapped his hand to his forehead. "Holy caped crusaders! I think you might be on to something."

"And yet you got the higher score on your PI certification exam. I'm wondering now if that test is really an accurate assessment of ability."

Veronica's father ignored her jab and rummaged in his briefcase for the list she had sent him. "Here we go!" he crowed. "Sweetheart, I don't care what your third grade teacher said-- you're a genius. Make sure you and Logan use protection."

Keith hung up, leaving Veronica staring in horror at the phone in her hand. Dads could be so disturbingly gross sometimes.

"S'up Ronnie and little dude that isn't mine?" Dick wandered out of his room in his boxer shorts and stole a fingerful of oatmeal from Joey's bowl. His red eyes and reeking breath were clear indicators of a hangover.

"Just getting ready to spring your BFF from the clink," Veronica told him. "Have a good time at the Pi Sig house?"

"Killer."

The boy did look half-dead. "Have you even been to class yet this semester?" she asked.

Dick staggered into the living room and collapsed on the sofa. "Ronnie, let me explain something. As a Casablancas, it's expected that I'll follow in my father's footsteps."

"You're going to bilk hundreds of investors for their life savings and serve ten to twelve months in a minimum security country club?"

"I'm headed for the corporate world, Ronnie. And the corporate world will care less about my GPA than my mastery of public drunkenness," Dick explained. "So you see, we're all preparing for our futures while we're in college."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Okay then. Study hard, Dick." She took Joey into the bedroom she shared with Logan and started packing a small suitcase with baby clothes.

Dick hopped up and snagged the unguarded remains of breakfast. He headed back to the couch, bowl in hand, and settled in front of the television.

An hour later, Joey was packed and ready to go. Veronica wheeled his suitcase to the door. Dick was still watching cartoons, so Veronica settled in a chair and studied the anime characters battling onscreen. "What is this?" she asked.

"Inuyasha," Dick replied. He was totally engrossed in the action. "You know, falling down Japanese wells really sucks. Either you die in seven days, or you're forced to battle demons in feudal Japan. Either way, I don't recommend it. Not that I recommend falling down wells in any country, mind you."

Veronica sighed. The meeting with Molly Fitzpatrick wasn't until seven o'clock that night. It was going to be a very long day.

**********

Keith studied the decrepit warehouse listed as property of Sorokin Enterprises. It had once been a fruit packing plant, but now the windows were boarded up and the front door sported a large, rusty padlock. Keith got out of his car and circled the building on foot. The place looked abandoned, except for the gray van parked around back.

_Eureka_, Keith thought triumphantly. He tried the backdoor and found it unlocked. Keith had a moment of déjà vu. Apparently good henchmen reallywere hard to find. He made a mental note to share this tidbit with Veronica, who would doubtlessly get a good laugh out of it. He crept further into the dark building.

Inside, he could here raised voices conversing in Russian. And a woman screaming. Keith hustled through a dimly-lit service corridor until he emerged in a large open space. He ducked quickly behind a large piece of broken machinery.

The first thing Keith saw was the girl he'd given his business card to in the alley behind Jiggles. A heavily muscled man in a tight black t-shirt held the girl roughly by her hair. Another man in a suit spoke in harsh, unintelligible tones. Keith could see the guy in the t-shirt had a pistol tucked in the waistband of his jeans. His boss asked the young woman a question, but she only shook her head in response. Tears streamed down her face and ruined her ridiculously thick makeup. The thug holding her hair gave it a vicious yank, and the girl sobbed harder.

Keith studied his surroundings. There were at least a dozen girls in the room, all of them dressed to show maximum skin. They huddled together in one corner of the room. Some were crying like the girl from the bar, while some stared straight ahead without expression. There were mattresses and blankets spread on the floor. Keith realized that the girls were living in this hell-hole, and felt a wave of anger and disgust towards their captors.

He sank deeper into the shadows behind the machinery and dialed his cell phone.

"911, please state your emergency."

"There are two armed gunmen holding at least a dozen Russian women hostage in the old Costa Verde Fruit Company warehouse on East 87th street," Keith whispered urgently to the dispatcher.

"Sir, are you in immediate danger?" the woman asked in a bored voice.

"What part of 'armed gunmen' makes you think that?" Keith asked furiously.

"Sir, there's no need to be rude."

"Get here. Now. Or my next call is to a TV news crew." He hung up. Perversely, he was grateful the cops seemed as inept in L.A. as they were in Neptune. At least no one back home could complain they did things better in the city.

The man in the suit held something dark and compact in his hand. He pointed it at the girl. Was it another gun, Keith wondered? His heart leapt into his throat. Was he about to witness a murder? Over the girl's shoulder, however, a television turned on harmlessly. Keith breathed a silent sigh of relief. The man in the suit was holding a remote control.

The girl seemed determined not to watch whatever was happening onscreen, but her captors were insistent. The man in the suit slapped her across the face, hard enough to give the girl a bloody lip. The burly guard held her head immobile with one giant hand, forcing her to view the television.

Keith was at the wrong angle to see what the men were showing her, but he could hear everything. The sound was scratchy and low quality, like a home movie.

"What's the matter, bitch?" a man on TV growled. "I thought you wanted to be a star. Isn't that right? Sivya the star. I'm going to make you famous, Sivya."

Keith gasped sharply. He slipped around the side of canning machine, trying to get a better view of the television. Sure enough, Keith recognized his query. It was another movie of Sivya Denisovitch. Like the last film she had appeared in, Sivya was naked. This time, however, her co-star held a knife to the girl's throat while they had intercourse. The camerawork was shaky, like the man in the film was using a handheld camera to capture the action. This was no slick studio piece, and Sivya wasn't acting. She was clearly terrified.

The picture was cropped so that the man's head wasn't even in the frame. Keith squinted, trying to discern any identifying marks on her attacker, or a distinguishing landmark that could help pinpoint a location. He moved half a step closer. Unfortunately, his shoe accidentally scuffed the floor and sent a loose screw skittering across the room.

Immediately, the two Russian men spun around, guns drawn. Keith hunkered low and made a break for the backdoor of the warehouse. He had barely cleared the row of machinery when the gunmen opened fire.

Keith dove for cover. "I'm with the police!" he lied. "We've got you surrounded! Surrender your weapons."

For a moment, the men seemed prepared to believe him. Then they let loose with a hail of bullets. One ricocheted inches from Keith's foot. "Hey! What if I had been telling the truth?" he called to his assailants.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The kidnapped girls were screaming, some of them laying flat on the floor while others ran for their lives. One of the gunmen turned his weapon and aimed for the fleeing women. On the television screen, Keith could see still see Sivya. Her expression echoed his own; they were both sure these were their last seconds on earth. The knife flashed, and Sivya's throat turned scarlet with blood. The second gunman continued to fire on Keith's flimsy shelter.

"LAPD! Hands in the air!" Uniformed officers stormed the warehouse, their own guns drawn. Both of the Russian men dropped their weapons.

Keith rose from his hiding place on shaking legs as the officers handcuffed his attackers. Across the warehouse, the girl from the bar had paused the DVD. She paid no attention to the destruction in the room; she only had eyes for her murdered friend Sivya.


	21. Chapter 21

Author's Note: Sorry to leave you in suspense! Thanks for all the nice reviews while I was gone. Here's a long chapter for your troubles.

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER TWENTYONE**

Keith Mars studied the person seated opposite him. Keith was fairly certain his subject had told him everything she knew about the Sorokins' sleazy sex trade empire, but this girl could obviously keep a secret. The interrogation room they occupied at LAPD's 23rd Precinct station was silent except for the quiet scratching noises made by the girl's fingernail as she traced the lines and grooves of the scarred wooden table in front of her. She finally cracked under his scrutiny.

"Okay, I confess!" Veronica told her father. "I shot the Sheriff. But I didn't kill the Deputy."

Keith sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh, lacing his fingers behind his head. "I guess I'm a little confused as to how we could have been working practically the same case and yet I'm only hearing this information about the Sorokins now. I thought we were a team, like the Hardy Boys. Except one of us is a girl."

"Dad, I would have said something, but I promised to keep my involvement a secret. Nothing in my case led to Sivya Denisovitch. Besides, if I told you I was working for the FBI, they might have killed you. Or had you abducted by aliens."

"No more secrets?" Keith held out his little finger.

Veronica hooked her own pinky in his and they shook. "I drink milk from the carton when you're not home," she confessed.

"That's okay. Sometimes I read your diary."

"I know. I've been keeping a fake diary for you to read since I was fourteen."

Father and daughter grinned at each other. Keith stood and opened the door of their tiny interrogation room. "Come on, kid. Time to learn more about the human trafficking business."

"Somehow I missed that episode of School House Rock," Veronica commented.

"I could sing for you-"

"Please, Dad. These poor girls have been through enough."

The station was bustling with activity, but Veronica spotted Agent Schuler and led her father into the fray. When Keith had called to tell his daughter about the shootout in the Sorokins' warehouse, Veronica had immediately relayed the information to the FBI. She and Schuler had rushed to LA, intent on questioning the kidnapped girls and the two captured mobsters. Now Schuler was glaring impatiently at his watch.

"The Russian interpreters aren't here yet," he told Veronica. "I need to take Vadim and Ilya downtown to the Federal Building and transfer them to FBI custody. If we're going to make our meeting with Molly Fitzpatrick in Neptune tonight, we should leave LA soon."

"I can wait here while the police question the girls from the warehouse," Veronica offered. "I'll ride back with my dad."

Schuler looked relieved. "Good thinking. Be sure you get copies of the girls' statements. I'll see you tonight." He signaled two uniformed police officers to escort the prisoners to his vehicle.

As Schuler exited the station, the translators arrived and were quickly ushered into interrogation rooms to begin interviewing the Sorokins' kidnapping victims. Keith was particularly interested to hear from Sivya's friend. So far, the only information they had from the girl was her name. Petra Ustinov.

Petra was painfully thin, and she appeared even more frail in the harsh fluorescent light. Keith and Veronica stood with the station captain behind the observation window.

"Let me talk to her," Keith implored Captain Shea. "She's seen me before, she knows I've been looking for Sivya Denisovitch."

"The girl from the snuff film?" Shea asked. He hesitated. "Alright. But I'm going in with you, and don't even think of asking leading questions that might jeopardize our legal case."

Keith nodded eagerly. "Thank you, Captain."

Shea fixed Keith with a hard stare. "I was impressed with your work on the Lilly Kane murder, Sheriff Mars. Otherwise I wouldn't even consider letting a P.I. interview my key witness. Don't screw it up."

"Understood."

Captain Shea gestured for Keith and an interpreter to follow him into the cramped interrogation room. Veronica watched through the two-way glass as the interpreter settled next to Petra, while her father and Shea took seats across the small table.

"For the record, please state your name and how you came to reside illegally in the United States," Captain Shea started. Petra stiffened in fear and anger as the interpreter translated his words. Her words were an unintelligible torrent, but the interpreter quickly made her answer known.

"_My name is Petra Ustinov. I came here from Belarus to marry a man who said he loved me. He lied. I entered the country on a fiancé visa he arranged for me, but as soon as we left the airport I was driven to a filthy warehouse. I was held there for weeks, and when they finally brought me out it was to…"_

Petra trailed off. She looked away from the men, biting her lip hard and trying not to cry. She took a few ragged breaths and regained her composer.

"_I had no intention of breaking your laws."_

Keith swallowed with difficulty, trying to clear the lump in his throat. "What about Sivya Denisovitch? Did these men lie to her, too?"

Petra nodded as she laughed bitterly and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. Her ridiculously heavy mascara smeared under her large brown eyes. "_Sivya wanted to be a famous actress. Stupid girl. We were all stupid girls."_

"Who killed her, Petra? Who killed Sivya?" Keith asked urgently.

"_I don't know," _Petra sobbed. _"She ran away three weeks ago, and no one saw her after that. We thought she had escaped. And then you came to the bar, asking questions. Vadim found the business card you gave me. That's how I got this," _Petra gently touched a large purple bruise on her jaw.

Keith reached across the table and took her hand in his. "I'm sorry for everything they put you through. Help us bring them to justice."

Petra hesitated. _"Can I stay here? In America? There's nothing for me in Belarus."_

Captain Shea shook his head. "I'm sorry. Immigration and Customs Enforcement will hold you in federal custody until this case is closed. You'll be deported, unless ICE accepts your claim for asylum."

Petra looked dismayed. She tried to withdraw her hand from Keith's, but he held on. "Please. Help us find Sivya's murderer."

"_I would,"_ Petra told him, _"but I don't know who killed Sivya. Vadim and Ilya made us watch the DVD. I don't know where they got it. They told us this is what happens to girls who misbehave."_

Veronica could see her own heartbreak reflected in her father's eyes. They listened to all eight of the kidnapped girls' interviews, but no one knew who had killed Sivya Denisovitch. One day she had vanished, and the next anyone saw of the girl was her murder on the DVD.

Keith and Veronica left the police station tired and discouraged. Veronica grabbed the car keys from her father. "I'll drive, Dad. You've had a long day."

Keith nodded and shuffled around to the passenger side of his sedan. "It's not over yet. I need to meet with Natasha Denisovitch and tell her the bad news about her sister." He rubbed his eyes wearily. "Captain Shea gave me a copy of the DVD. I hope Natasha doesn't ask to see it."

Veronica shot her father a sympathetic look as she pulled onto the freeway headed south towards Neptune. "I'm sorry about Sivya. But I'm glad you're okay. No more gun slinging for you, Dirty Harry."

Keith gave a sleepy grin. "I bet those Russian punks aren't feeling very lucky today." He reclined his seat and closed his eyes.

Traffic crawled, and car horns blared impatiently. Veronica sighed. "I'd like to live in a world where people only honked if they were horny."

Keith reached over and patted her knee, his eyes still shut. "I'm disabling your car horn when we get home. And then I'll go to work on Logan."

"Logan's car," Veronica corrected.

"Yeah. That's what I meant."

*********

Veronica's dad dropped her off at the Neptune Grand only after she promised to return home to their apartment that night.

"I just need to take care of a few little things first," Veronica told him. She didn't mention that one of those little things was baby Joey, waiting upstairs with Wallace in Logan's suite.

_So much for total honesty, _Veronica thought unhappily. Despite her pledge, she didn't think her father was ready to hear how far she and Logan had progressed in their domestic bliss. Especially when Logan was currently incarcerated.

"I am _not_ your manny," Wallace complained as soon as Veronica entered the suite. "Why did I have to babysit?"

"Because _somebody_ said that he wanted to help me with this case," Veronica reminded him. She quickly dressed Joey in his warmest clothes. She had to hustle if she was going to meet Molly and Agent Schuler in time. "That was you, wasn't it? My BFF who almost let me get killed in an alley behind the Pi Sigma Sigma house?"

"Yeah, okay. I said I'd help," Wallace relented. "But why can't I help in more manly ways? Like seducing hot women for information."

Veronica rushed to stow her field gear and hefted the bag over her shoulder. It was heavier than normal; this time she had remembered to pack a crowbar. "Because I'm short on hot informants and Manny Weevil had plans for tonight."

"Good thing I usually set aside my Saturday nights for debilitating self pity. Otherwise I might have had plans, too."

Veronica cast a sympathetic look at her best friend. "Wallace Fennell, we've got to find you a girl."

"Damn straight. Isn't that your job, to find things?" Wallace asked.

"For you, pal, I'll put all my other cases on hold. You don't mind babysitting while I play Yentil the Matchmaker, do you?" Veronica teased.

Wallace immediately handed Joey to her. "On second thought, I just remembered that I am a super-fine specimen of manhood, and I won't require your services after all."

Veronica balanced the baby and her heavily laden bag on one arm while rummaging through a drawer in the credenza. "See Joey, all it takes to meet girls is a little self confidence. And beer." She fished out Logan's wallet and handed Wallace one hundred dollars.

Wallace looked uncomfortable. "V, you don't have to pay me. I was joking about the babysitting thing, it wasn't a big deal. I studied most of the afternoon anyway."

"I'm not paying you," Veronica shrugged. "Logan is. Take it and buy something nice for the girl of your dreams. Flowers. Chocolates. If you hurry, you might still have time to swing by Unicornicopia before it closes. Girls love unicorns."

"I'll remember that," Wallace chuckled. He took the money and shoved it in his pocket, but continued to gaze thoughtfully at Veronica and the baby. Joey caught hold of the small diamond pendant Veronica wore in memory of Lilly Kane. Like all infants, Joey immediately put the necklace in his mouth, and Veronica attempted to gently extricate it from him. She smiled tolerantly, lovingly even, as Joey tried to hang on to his shiny new toy. She looked up to find Wallace's eyes riveted on her.

"What's up, Buttercup? I can give you an extra twenty if you want to spring for a deluxe Edible Arrangement. Just a fruit basket? I think not. It's tasty, healthy, and a work of art. No girl of Wallace's dreams should expect less."

"No, it's just that…" Wallace faltered, but Veronica waited patiently while she bounced Joey on her hip. Wallace forged ahead clumsily. "You're not going anywhere, right? I'm going to see you again after tonight?"

"What?!" Veronica asked in surprise.

Wallace had obviously been worrying all afternoon. "You came back from summer vacation and moved in with Logan practically as soon as your feet touched the west coast. And then come to find out you're hiding a baby in your hotel suite."

"So let me get this straight," Veronica said. "You think I spent the summer pretending to be an FBI intern, but instead had a not-so-secret love child with Logan."

"Maybe," Wallace said defensively. "He looks just like you, V!"

Veronica pretended to be wounded. "Ouch. I don't go around saying all of you people look the same."

"You people?"

"Basketball players. You're all so freakishly tall and well-coordinated."

But Wallace doggedly pursued his concerns, refusing to be side tracked by her jokes. "I'm serious, V. Just tell me Logan is really in jail, and that you're not running away with him tonight. Your dad will be seriously pissed at me if this is some scheme to disappear with Logan and your..."

"Love child?"

"Stop saying that!"

"I promise that Logan is really in jail. And he will continue to be in jail until I get Joey back to his mother, so I need to split. But I _will_ see you tomorrow," Veronica vowed with a smile.

Wallace still appeared doubtful, but he dutifully walked her and Joey downstairs to Veronica's Saturn. "Don't look so worried, Papa Bear," she told him. "This case will be all wrapped up by tonight."

"Just be careful." He closed her car door and waved goodbye as she drove away.

As per her agreement with Molly Fitzpatrick, Veronica took Joey to Balboa Park on the east side of town. It was a quiet, blue-collar neighborhood. At seven o'clock, the sun was just setting. Tall trees cast long shadows over the empty grass field. The swings in the playground swayed slightly back and forth in the light breeze, as though pushed by invisible hands. Devoid of people, the park felt ominous as day turned to night. Still, Veronica preferred no people to finding Liam Fitzpatrick or Danny Boyle waiting for her. Checking again to make sure the coast was clear, Veronica exited her car and took baby Joey to the swings. She sat with him in her lap as they rocked gently.

"You're mom really missed you," she told Joey. She smiled sadly. "Logan and I are going to miss you, too. He would've liked to say goodbye himself, but he'd rather go to jail than put you in danger."

Joey cooed happily as they swayed to and fro. "I know," Veronica continued. "It was kind of showy, but Logan's into big gestures. Still, he'd want me to tell you to be good. Stay in school. Don't do drugs. And he'd probably add something about avoiding St. Patrick's Day parades. Green really isn't your color anyway."

A car pulled up to the curb and Veronica tensed, poised for action. She relaxed when Molly Fitzpatrick emerged, also looking nervous. Molly waived a little and rushed to the swing set.

"Joey!" she cried in relief. She took the baby from Veronica and held him to her, showering his tiny body with kisses.

"Agent Schuler will be here any minute," Veronica told Molly. The other girl took a seat on the swing next to Veronica, still cuddling Joey to her.

"What if Liam finds out I got him in trouble?" Molly fretted.

"You show us where Liam stashed the stolen goods from the Hearst robbery, and you and Joey can disappear forever, courtesy of Uncle Sam," Veronica reassured her. "Agent Schuler has your false documents and will take you to the U.S. Marshalls' Office in Los Angeles tonight. They're the ones that oversee the witness protection program."

"Okay." Molly took a deep breath and kissed Joey's tiny fingers. "I'm really scared, Veronica."

"This will all be over soon-"

Veronica's reassurances were cut short by the appearance of a shiny black sedan with tinted windows. It cruised down the street in front of the playground, slowing as it approached. Veronica watched in anticipation as the driver's side window slid down silently. "_Schuler?" _She wondered.

Veronica stood and took the baby from Molly's arms. "Come on," she told the other girl. She offered her hand, but Molly was still staring at the black sedan, her mouth open in horror. Veronica whipped around in time to see the barrel of a large pistol pointed out the car window.

The hail of gunfire was deafening. Dirt and blood flew in the air, mingling with Joey's wails and the acrid smell of smoke. Liam had found them.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER TWENTYTWO**

Logan was counting the holes in the acoustic ceiling tiles of his cell. If each tile had 43 tiny holes and there were 78 tiles, then there were 3,345 holes in his jail cell ceiling. When his eighth grade algebra teacher, Mrs. Harwood, had told him he could use math skills in his everyday life, surely she hadn't envisioned this? Or maybe she had. That woman had never liked him. Logan was still ruminating when Deputy Leo D'Amato unlocked his cell and slid the bars open.

"If you're my conjugal visit, I'll pass," Logan wryly informed the young deputy.

"Get up. We've got to go." Leo looked pale and shaken.

Logan sat up from his bunk and stretched languidly. "Is this the part where you shoot me and claim I was trying to make a break for it?"

"Something's happened. We've got to go," Leo repeated. He stood aside to let Logan pass.

"Whatever it is, at least this time I have an airtight alibi," Logan said cheerfully. "Where's Veronica?"

Leo's clenched jaw twitched, but he remained silent. Logan studied the deputy's rigid countenance. "Okay, let's go," he told Leo.

Leo drove Logan in his patrol car. Logan took it as a good sign that he was allowed to sit in the passenger seat instead of the back like a criminal. Logan tried again to garner more information, but Leo refused to say anything. They drove in silence to Balboa Park.

The first thing Logan saw was the Sheriff's Department vehicles and an ambulance. Their swirling lights cast dizzying shadows on the forlorn playground equipment and silent spectators huddled on the front lawns of cheap houses across the street. The second thing Logan saw were the paramedics wheeling an empty stretcher across the grass towards the swings. On the ground, a bloody sheet covered the victim from head to toe.

"NO!" Logan bellowed. He hurtled out of the car and sprinted for the shrouded figure. Strong arms caught him, straining to hold him back.

"Easy, kid," Sheriff Vinnie growled. "That's not what you're looking for."

Vinnie turned Logan around and shoved him forcibly towards the rear of the ambulance. He stumbled and fell in the dirt, scraping his palms and knees.

"Logan?"

He looked up and froze. Veronica sat on the back bumper of the ambulance, holding Joey in her lap. She was covered in blood.

"Were you shot?" Logan asked wildly. He rushed to her side, but seemed unsure if he should touch her. It didn't matter; she threw her arms around him, the tears she had held back finally spilling out all over his shirt. He returned her embrace cautiously, letting his hands explore her body for injuries.

"Are you hurt?" He demanded. Veronica was wracked with more sobs, her face still buried in his shoulder.

"No. It's not my blood." She pulled back to look in his anguished eyes. "It's Molly's. Liam must have found out that she was skipping town."

Logan pressed her firmly to him, kissing her matted hair. Joey wiggled between them, so Logan sat next to Veronica and placed the baby in his own lap. He drew Veronica tightly to his side as she continued to weep softly.

Vinnie ambled up to the young couple. "Aw. Isn't this cute? It's like a family Christmas card sent from the future. Complete with law enforcement in the background. All that's missing is one of you in handcuffs."

Instantly, Veronica's sorrow turned to rage. "This seems to have worked out pretty well for you, Vinnie. With Molly dead and Liam running from a murder rap, I guess no one can blab about your connections with the Fitzpatricks."

Vincent Van Lowe wagged his finger at the pretty detective. "That's Sheriff Vinnie to you, Short Stuff. And my involvement with the Fitzpatrick family is purely for informational purposes. As for Molly, well… like I said on Channel Nine news, I am thrilled that kidnapped baby Joey was found unharmed, but deeply disturbed that his mother should meet such a gruesome end. Thanks to our anonymous eye witness—that's you— I'm confident that the killer —that's Liam— will soon be brought to justice."

Veronica sighed. "I told you, I didn't actually see the shooter," she reminded Vinnie. "All I saw was the car and the gun."

Vinnie waived her off impatiently. "Molly's dead, and Liam's flown the coop. Besides, who else would have any motive to kill her?"

"Don't you even care that a girl was murdered here tonight?"

"She was a Fitzpatrick. There are more where she came from." Vinnie shrugged. "They reproduce practically as often as they clip their toenails. In fact, they might actually reproduce by clipping their toenails. Like sea sponges."

"Sheriff! Over here!" Leo called from beside Molly's body. Vinnie jauntily saluted Veronica and Logan before taking his leave of them.

Veronica glared after him, but Logan was distracted by the baby in his arms. "What's going to happen to Joey?" He asked her quietly.

"I don't know," Veronica confessed. "Schuler never showed up. I've been calling him all night, but-"

Her phone rang. "Speaking of…" Veronica said as she checked the caller ID. Schuler. "Where have you been?"

"Sorry, I know I'm running late," the agent told her.

"Late?" Veronica cried. "Molly's dead! Why weren't you here tonight?"

Stunned silence was the only answer she received. "Dead? What happened?" Schuler asked finally.

"Liam Fitzpatrick must have heard Molly was going to turn him in. We were caught in a drive-by. Molly was shot and killed."

"Are you alright?"

Veronica took a steadying breath. "Joey and I are fine," she told Schuler, looking at Logan and the baby. Joey slept while Logan lightly stroked his fine blond hair absentmindedly.

"Did Molly say where Gory Sorokin's computer was before she died?"

"No. She never said."

"I'm sorry," Agent Schuler repeated. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm still in Los Angeles. Sorokins hired hands, Vadim and Ilya, escaped this afternoon. I've been searching for them all night."

"Escaped?" Veronica exclaimed in dismay. "How?"

"Tess Rosenswag."

"You're sure?"

Schuler laughed mirthlessly. "Very. I was the one she hijacked and clubbed over the head with her service pistol. Besides, we have the whole thing on video. I'll send it to you on your cell phone."

Veronica put Schuler on speaker phone while she and Logan watched. The video was grainy and difficult to see on Veronica's tiny mobile screen, but she and Logan could clearly make out Tess Rosenswag approaching Schuler's vehicle, gun drawn.

"Where is this footage from?" Veronica asked.

"All prisoner transport vehicles have a built in dashboard camera," Schuler told her. "It's for the safety of the officers and the prisoners."

"_You thought you could stop me?" _Rosenswag's voice was tinny but audible. Logan and Veronica watched Schuler's door fly open and catch Rosenswag in her midriff. The small blond woman stumbled, and Schuler used the opportunity to jump out of the car. The two minute figures wrestled, and Rosenswag's gun discharged. The camera went blank.

"Looks like she knew she was on Candid Camera," Logan commented.

"I can't tell you much of what happened after that," Schuler told them. "She clocked me with the gun, and when I came to, Vadim and Ilya were gone."

Veronica closed her eyes in wariness and frustration. "What about Gory's party tonight? We still haven't found the latest shipment of girls. Maybe they're at the cabin."

"Negative. We don't have time to follow some rich, over-sexed college boy. Vadim and Ilya are our best link to the Sorokins' criminal activities, and our priority is their recapture. I'll call you when I know more."

Schuler hung up. Logan looked skeptically at Veronica. "As a rich, over-sexed college boy myself, I'm a little offended that he would be so dismissive." He nuzzled her ear. "Of course, there is one way to help us forget all our troubles."

"Concentrate, Logan. We've still got two crime families and Sivya's murderer to put away."

"Sorry. I blame your perfect ass for my inability to focus during our conversations."

Despite the horrors of the evening, Veronica laughed a little. "Come on. Let's go see what Leo found." She started towards the cluster of emergency service personal, but Logan stayed put. "Are you coming?" she called over her shoulder.

Logan started from his reverie. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER TWENTYTHREE**

Deputy Leo D'Amato crouched by Molly Fitzpatrick's dead body. He clutched a photograph in his latex-gloved hands. Vinnie looked over his shoulder, squinting.

"What's up with the sweet ride?" Vinnie wondered aloud.

Veronica held out her hand expectantly. The young deputy glanced at his Sheriff for permission. Vinnie rolled his eyes petulantly but nodded in assent, so Leo handed Veronica the photograph.

"It was in an envelope in her purse," Leo told her. "It had your name on it."

"Now why would Molly Fitzpatrick bring you a photo of her uncle's El Camino? Were you two making a Girls Gone Wild Classic Car calendar for the Quicky Lube? Miss January you're not, but you could probably pull off March or April," Vinnie offered.

"Watch it, asshole," Logan growled. He hitched baby Joey higher on his hip.

"That's _Sheriff _Asshole, kid," Vinnie responded cheerfully.

Veronica ignored their spat. The photo showed Liam Fitzpatrick and Danny Boyd in front of a non-descript house, posing with a muscle car. A green muscle car. A very familiar green muscle car.

"It's not an El Camino, it's a Barracuda," Veronica corrected Vinnie. "And I don't know why Molly wanted me to see this photo, but the car is registered to Mary McDonald, Liam's grandmother. Who happens to live about three blocks that way." She pointed southwest of the corner they stood on.

Leo and Vinnie looked at each other in surprise. "Holy shit!" Vinnie swore. He quickly grabbed for the radio attached to his shirt collar. "This is the Sheriff. Be on the lookout for a green Barracuda, registered to Mary McDonald. Suspect is Liam Fitzpatrick, wanted for murder."

"Mrs. McDonald could be hiding Liam in her house," Veronica told Leo. "He might be trying to wait out the manhunt there."

Leo stood and peeled off his gloves with a snap. "Think you can take us there?"

"This way," Veronica instructed. She took off sprinting, Leo hot on her heels.

"Sachs!" Vinnie bellowed.

The deputy came running. "Yeah, boss?" he panted.

"Release the body to the Coroner and secure the crime scene," Vinnie instructed. He jogged after Veronica and Leo.

"Here." Logan shoved the baby into Sach's arms. The deputy was too shocked to protest before Logan also disappeared into the night.

Logan passed Vinnie easily and caught up with Veronica and Leo just a few houses down from Mary McDonald's property. "Veronica, wait!" he hissed. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a halt. "Liam could be hiding in that house. You think he's going to let you just stroll up the driveway?"

Leo also slowed. "Logan has a good point," he conceded grudgingly. "The Sheriff and I should clear the house first."

Vinnie pulled up wheezing next to them. "No more running, or I'm putting you on desk duty for a month, D'Amato."

"Sorry, Sheriff. Should we find out if Mrs. McDonald has any company this evening?"

"Go! I'm not stopping you." Vinnie was doubled over, hands on his knees. He waived them on.

Leo shifted uncomfortably. "Don't we need a search warrant for that? Sir?"

Vinnie straightened up with indignation, but the effect was somewhat lost as the older man clutched his sides in pain. "Search warrant? Please. You don't need a search warrant when you've got charm oozing out of every pore."

"Charm?" Logan asked. "And here I thought you were full of-"

Veronica's elbow found its mark in Logan's ribs. "Ouch! What?" he said innocently. "I was going to say wisdom."

Vinnie marched up the front steps, gun drawn. He knocked lightly on the door. To Veronica he said, "When you tell your dad this story, you might mention how grateful you were to see a real professional in action. For once."

The porch light snapped on overhead, and Leo drew his gun as well. He gestured to Logan and Veronica to crouch down low next to a neighbor's mailbox.

"What do you want?" An old woman's voice called from behind the door.

"It's Sheriff Vincent Van Lowe, ma'am. We apologize for disturbing you, but we found a little lost cat and thought it might be yours," Vinnie said in his most insipid tone. "Can we come in?" He winked conspiratorially at Veronica.

"I shoot cats, mister, and I'll shoot you too if you don't get the hell off my front porch!" Mary McDonald yelled sharply.

Logan guffawed loudly, and even Leo had to hide a smirk. Vinnie quickly scuttled off the porch and slunk back to join the others.

"Don't worry, I'll definitely tell my dad how grateful I was to see this," Veronica told the sheriff. She hopped up the stairs and rapped on the front door.

"Veronica! Get back here!" Logan started to follow her, but Leo blocked his way.

"Stay put," the young deputy ordered. "If Granny really does have a gun, we don't want to storm the place Waco-style. At least not until we have plenty of backup."

Veronica pounded on the door again. "I told you to beat it!" the old lady called from within.

"Mrs. McDonald? We didn't want to worry you, but the Sheriff's Department found a green 1968 Barracuda wrecked on the Pacific Coast Highway. The car's registered in your name, ma'am. Did you lend it to someone?"

The door flew open, and tiny Mary McDonald glared blindly out at them. She was dressed in her bathrobe and a hairnet, but didn't look any less imposing for it. "That's my dead husband Frank's car! Wrecked? Those miserable grandkids, I'll kill every one of 'em! En't no one supposed to touch Frank's car!"

Clutching the handrail, she charged down the stairs. Logan darted around Leo to Veronica's side. "Makes you feel all warm and fuzzy, doesn't it? Maybe she'll invite us in for milk and cookies," he whispered. He took Mrs. McDonald's arm and led her around the side of the house. "Here ma'am, we'll help you check the garage."

Leo and Vinnie started to follow, but Veronica shook her head and pointed to the door Mrs. McDonald had left gaping wide open. The two officers hesitated, then went inside to look for Liam Fitzpatrick.

Veronica joined Logan and Mrs. McDonald at the old lady's garage. Logan was struggling to lift the heavy door. "Put your back into, lad!" Mrs. McDonald instructed him.

Logan rolled his eyes, but finally managed to heave the thing open. Leo and Vinnie emerged from the back door, guns holstered. "The house is clear," Leo reported.

Veronica whistled as she regarded the interior of Mary McDonald's garage. The space was packed with stolen goods. Every available surface was stacked with televisions, DVD players, and stereos. And computers. Including, Veronica was certain, Gory Sorokin's computer. Incriminating evidence and all. _Eureka_, she cheered silently.

The photo wasn't about the car at all; Molly had wanted to show her the garage where Liam and Danny stashed the loot they thought too hot to fence.

Logan strode forward and upended a large box. A cascade of iPods and offbrand MP3 players fell to the floor. All eyes turned towards the elderly woman in the bathrobe.

"They stole my Frank's car! Rotten hooligans. I'll kill 'em all," she muttered and stormed back into her house.

"I think she cares more about her missing car than the fact that we just busted her grandkids for a massive burglary ring," Veronica said in wonder.

"Score one for nurture versus nature," Logan remarked.

"Either way, you're screwed," Vinnie told him.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER TWENTYFOUR**

"How would you like your very own fan club?" Veronica propositioned Deputy Leo D'Amato.

"I thought you were in my fan club," Leo pouted.

Veronica smiled coyly. "Are you kidding? I'm the president. But I know two lovely young ladies who would be very eager to join up, should a certain deputy see fit to give them their stuff back without the hassle of all that red tape at the Sheriff's office."

"Lovely, you say?" Leo asked.

"Charming. Pretty. Practically perfect in every way," Veronica confirmed. She pointed towards Mac and Parker standing across the street from Mary McDonald's house. Parker waived flirtatiously and Leo grinned self-consciously in return.

Okay, so it wasn't fair to use sex appeal as a distraction, but Veronica needed to get her hands on Gory Sorokin's computer. Agent Schuler was still in Los Angeles trying to recapture Lev Sorokin's escaped henchmen. Schuler was right to think that Ilya and Vadim were more likely to bring down the Sorokin family's human trafficking business, but Veronica had other priorities. Like keeping her boyfriend alive. Gory had made it clear that Logan was at the top of his hit list. Veronica couldn't risk letting the young Russian beat whatever rap the FBI would eventually pin on the Sorokins; she had to find the evidence Gory was certain would incriminate him. Unfortunately, Veronica didn't have official status with the FBI. Which meant that if she wanted Gory's computer, she would have to get it the old-fashioned way. Subterfuge.

Logan had flatly refused to be part of anything that could land him in jail mere hours after his release, so Veronica called Mac and Parker. After all, she had promised Parker a more romantic introduction to dashing young Deputy D'Amato. And Leo certainly didn't look unhappy. So really it was a win-win situation for everyone. Right?

"I need you to flirt for all you're worth," Veronica muttered to Parker as the girls entered Mrs. McDonald's garage.

"If it's for a good cause, I guess I can take one for the team," Parker whispered obligingly.

"Leo, you remember my friend Parker?" Veronica asked when they drew near.

Leo nodded bashfully and regarded Parker through long, dark eyelashes. "How could I forget? Besides Veronica, you're at more crime scenes than any other girl I know."

Parker laughed nervously. "Yeah, I guess so. I have to admit, I was a little impressed by your mad handcuff skills."

"Hey, I'm sorry if I scared you that night at Logan's suite. I usually don't show off my mad handcuff skills until after the first date."

"You could make it up to her by helping get her stuff back," Veronica told Leo. She winked subtly at Parker. "Mac and I will take the left side, and you guys can take the right."

Leo hesitated, glancing at Vinnie and Sachs talking in the driveway. The entire Sheriff's Department was tagging evidence at Mary McDonald's house or at the scene of Molly Fitzpatrick's murder in Balboa Park just three blocks away. "I don't know…" Leo hedged.

Parker grabbed his arm and led him to the far side of the garage. "Oh, Leo! That'd be great. My first paper of the semester is due next week. I would absolutely worship the ground you walk on if you could spare me from another night in the computer lab."

With a final helpless shrug, Leo let Parker steer him away. "I'm so glad you and Parker are speaking again," Mac told Veronica. "I don't think I could ever flirt that shamelessly."

Veronica laughed and pulled her friend into the piles of electronics. "Come on. If she really pours it on, I bet Leo will let you take your stuff back tonight, too. And while you're at it, keep an eye out for a computer that could handle professional grade video editing," she added casually.

"Getting a head start on your Christmas shopping?" Mac asked incredulously, her eyebrows raised.

Veronica tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. "Is it really stealing if the item in question is already stolen?"

"That is a moral dilemma for a more ethical person than me."

Mac found her pilfered belongings in less than ten minutes, but Veronica made her pretend to keep looking while they searched for Gory's computer. Leo and Parker chatted casually by the garage door, and Logan sat with baby Joey on top of an aluminum trash can.

Finally, Mac nudged Veronica with her elbow and nodded her head towards a sleek, expensive looking processor nestled under a stained workbench. "That one is your best bet," she whispered. In a louder voice she called, "Oh, _there's_ my computer! Jeez, I must need glasses or something." Mac strolled away casually and collected her precious 'nerd gear' as she called it.

But how was Veronica supposed to steal Gory's computer with Leo and most of the Sheriff's Department watching, she wondered? Even Parker would have a hard time creating that big a diversion. As it happened, Veronica didn't need to create a diversion; one was walking up the driveway that very moment.

A tall, statuesque African-American woman approached Vinnie. Despite the lateness of the hour, she was dressed impeccably in a tailored skirt suit and matching jacket. Veronica was too far away to read the badge clipped to her lapel, but the woman looked every inch a government employee.

"Sheriff Van Lowe, I'm Melanie Daniels from CPS. Child Protection Services," she introduced herself.

Ms. Daniels didn't need to state her reason for appearing in Mary McDonald's backyard. All eyes immediately turned to Joey. Thrilled to be the center of attention, the baby waived happily from his perch in Logan's arms.

"No," Logan said belligerently. He hopped off the trash can and backed away from Ms. Daniels. "You can't have him. He should be with people he knows."

Logan looked as though he were deciding between fight or flight, neither one a good option while holding a baby. The Sheriff's deputies must have thought the same thing, because they cautiously formed a loose human net around Logan. Veronica sighed in dismay, but she wouldn't get a better opportunity than this. She rummaged in her bag and found her switchblade. A few deft twists, and Gory Sorokin's hard drive was hers. She stowed the knife and hurried to stop Logan before he did something jail-worthy. Again. Had Vinnie seen something? He looked at her strangely, but let Veronica pass by without question.

Melanie Daniels was trying to reason with Logan, but he refused to be consoled. "Joey already lost his mother tonight. He shouldn't be alone," he said with quiet intensity. "Kids shouldn't be left alone."

Veronica blinked back sudden tears. Logan would know better than anyone what it was like to be left all alone. Still she said, "Logan, you can't keep Joey."

"Why not?" he asked furiously. "We've taken good care of him, haven't we? Better than some strangers would. Some foster family who's only in it for the money."

Ms. Daniels bristled in indignation. "All our foster homes are thoroughly vetted. And are much better equipped to care for an infant than some college playboy and his girlfriend."

This was definitely the wrong tactic; Veronica could see Logan flush with anger. She quickly stepped between the two combatants. "Liam Fitzpatrick is still out there," she reminded Logan. "There's no way he didn't see me tonight with Molly. If Liam decides to come looking for Joey, he'll start with me first. It's better for Joey to enter CPS under an assumed name, somewhere far from here. So Liam can never find him."

Veronica looked at Melanie Daniels for support, and the woman nodded. "We can do that. Joey will be well cared for and kept out of harm's way."

"Logan, please. Joey will be safer without us," Veronica pleaded.

Logan's chest heaved with emotion as he regarded the small blond boy smiling up at him. Finally, Logan set his jaw and thrust Joey into Melanie Daniels' arms. Without a word, he pushed past the ring of deputies and kept walking into the night. Despite the darkness, Veronica could see him rub his hand across his eyes.

She started to go after him, but Vinnie put a restraining hand on her bicep. "Whoa there, Klepto Barbie. I believe you've got something that belongs in my evidence locker."

Frak. He _had_ seen her steal Gory's hard drive. She threw her bag at Vinnie. "Knock yourself out," she told him and dashed after Logan.

She found him sitting on the curb a few houses down. As she suspected, tears were rolling silently down his cheeks. "You didn't want to say good-bye?" she asked.

"No. I prefer the band-aid approach. The stinging kind, not the ones that fall off in the pool."

"That's just masochistic. And gross." She sat down beside him.

"Besides, it's not like Joey will remember any of this," Logan brooded.

"That's true. But considering everything that happened here tonight, maybe that's not such a bad thing," Veronica said truthfully.

"Yeah." Logan wiped his tears away with a sleeve. "But I was kind of excited to watch him grow up, you know? Cheer for him at Little League games. Embarrass him in front of his prom date."

Veronica laughed. "Even if Joey never knows it, you did a really good job taking care of him. Most guys wouldn't have stepped up and taken responsibility like you did. Just look at Dick."

"Thanks." Logan drew her into his arms and buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair. "Why Miss Mars! Is that a hard drive in your sweater, or are you just happy to see me?"

"Hmm… both?"

"I can live with that. Ready to go home?" he murmured.

Veronica groaned tiredly. "I wish. I need to shower and change of clothes first. My dad will flip if I walk through the door like this." She gestured to her bloodstained shirt and jeans. Molly's blood, everywhere. Veronica shuddered.

Logan looked confused. "Your dad?"

"Oh… you meant 'home' as in the Neptune Grand," Veronica realized. She had forgotten Logan was in jail until just a few hours ago.

"Your dad is back from Los Angeles," Logan guessed, his expression falling.

" I'm so sorry, Logan. I promised him a father-daughter dinner tonight," she apologized.

He smiled down at her crookedly. Logan Echolls, alone again. "I don't suppose he'd let me keep you for one more night? Or forever?"

She returned his smile wistfully. "I seriously doubt it. But you could ask."

Their lips met, softly at first, then with more urgency. Finally Veronica pulled away. "You _do _need some sort of compensation for being my live-in body guard these past few weeks. Since bedroom favors aren't an option for tonight, how about some home cooking? I make a mean microwave chili."

"Be still my heartburn; thou hast known worse than this." Logan sarcastically misquoted with an impish grin.

"Watch it, Bubba, or you're not getting no lovin' _or_ dinner tonight."

"Ha, I knew you were going all domestic on me, Mars! Look at you, making dinner for your man." Veronica and Logan turned to find Mac leaning against her car just a few feet away. She held out Veronica's bag. "Here. Sheriff Vinnie said to give you this."

Veronica ignored her friend's teasing and took the bag. "Where's Parker?"

"Getting a ride home from Deputy Leo. It could very well take all night if they go by way of the Overlook in La Jolla. Can I offer you two a lift somewhere?"

"My Saturn is still at Balboa Park," Veronica told her. She and Logan hopped in the backseat of Mac's Volkswagon Beetle. "And what do you know about the Overlook? You are such a Tyson groupie."

"Betty Crocker," Mac retorted.

********

Logan was quiet during the drive back to the Neptune Grand. Veronica assumed he was still upset about giving up Joey to Child Protective Services. That was true, to an extent, but what bothered Logan more was the idea of sleeping alone in his very empty hotel suite that evening. Sure, Dick was there sometimes, but it wasn't the same. Living with Dick was like living in a fraternity house. Living with Veronica and Joey had felt like home.

Logan's melancholy mood persisted as Veronica searched for her belongings scattered throughout the suite, throwing them haphazardly into a duffel. How had one of her earrings wound up in his shaving kit? Logan couldn't remember, but he would have given anything for the earring- and its owner- to stay put.

Lying on his bed, Logan watched Veronica undress for her shower. Normally he might have joked that water conservation was everyone's responsibility and extend his services to her as a bath buddy. Tonight, however, this was just another bitter reminder of what he would miss when Veronica returned to living in her apartment.

Suddenly, Logan was struck by a flash of inspiration. He grabbed the twice-stolen hard drive from Veronica's pile of things. "You wanted to put this in your dad's safe, right? In his office?"

"Yes… ?" Veronica said questioningly.

"Why don't I drop it off while you clean up? I'll meet you at your place," he told her.

Veronica was surprised, but thought that Logan might want some alone time. "Okay," she told him. "Thanks. But trespassers beware; my dad could still be there. Just remember, dead men tell no tales. On pain of death, promise me you will not tell him that I was standing next to Molly Fitzpatrick when she was murdered tonight. Got it?"

"Aye-aye, Captain." Logan saluted and gave her a quick kiss. "And may I say how ravishing the Captain looks this evening?"

"Stow the gangplank, sailor. It's time to set sail." Veronica swatted him playfully with her towel.

He chuckled and started to leave, but paused in the doorway. "I love you," he told her sincerely.

She smiled. "I know."

Contrary to what Veronica suspected, Logan actually hoped to find Keith in his office. As he drove the deserted late-night streets, Logan mentally rehearsed what he wanted to say. He was in luck; there was still a light on in the offices of Mars Investigations. Hard drive in hand, Logan took the steps two at a time. He felt intrepid but charged with adrenaline. This plan of his could very well backfire. He didn't care.

Keith was sitting at his desk, his back to the door. His forlorn gaze fell on a small TV. Onscreen, a pretty young woman experienced the terrifying last few minutes of her life.

"_What's the matter, bitch?"_ the faceless man on the DVD growled. _"I thought you wanted to be a star. Isn't that right? Sivya the star. I'm going to make you famous, Sivya."_

"That's Sivya?" Logan asked.

Keith swiveled in his seat, taken off-guard by Logan's sudden appearance. "Oh! Hey, Logan. Sorry, I thought I locked up after Natasha Denisovitch left."

Logan held up a key. "You did, but I'm on an official mission. Veronica wanted to put this in your safe until she can take a closer look at it." He held out Gorya Sorokin's hard drive.

"_Stop crying! Why are you crying? This is the role of your life."_

Keith took it from him and bent down to open the safe behind his desk. "What's on this thing, anyway?"

"We don't know, but it's bad enough that the Sorokins don't want it going public. Veronica thinks it has to do with the family's business, or something equally sketchy."

"And where is my darling daughter?"

"_You're going to be the most popular girl in Hollywood."_

"She just finished packing up her stuff. She'll meet us at your apartment for dinner. I hope it's okay that I'm invited."

"Of course. Anyway, I wanted to thank you. Veronica seems to be in the same semi-pristine condition as when I left." Keith shuffled some files around to make space for the hard drive, then closed the safe and spun the combination lock. He flashed Logan a sarcastic grin.

Logan took a deep breath and dove in headfirst. "Actually, sir, I wanted to ask you something. About Veronica."

Keith's grin froze into something more closely resembling a grimace. Logan was pretty sure Keith knew what was coming.

"_You know what you should do with your sudden popularity? You should just lay back and enjoy it."_ Onscreen, the knife at Sivya's throat flashed, and just like that, she was gone. All the life drained out of Sivya's eyes as quickly as the blood poured out of her severed veins.

Instantly, Logan forgot what he was going to say to Veronica's father. His stomach felt queasy and he was strangely light-headed. "He killed her," he said. He stared at the TV in shock.

"What?" Keith asked sharply. He followed Logan's horrified gaze. "Oh. Sorry."

Keith reached up to turn off the DVD player, but Logan lunged across the desk and pushed Keith away. "Logan? What the hell?"

Logan didn't answer. Instead, he hit the reverse button and played the scene again.

"_You should just lay back and enjoy it."_

"He killed her," Logan repeated in wonder. "That fucking psychopath killed her."

Keith looked from the tiny screen to Logan. "Are you saying you know who murdered Sivya Denisovitch?"


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER TWENTYFIVE**

"Gory Sorokin?" Keith asked in disbelief. "What makes you think he killed Sivya?"

Logan was pacing in agitation, like his body was trying to keep up with his racing thoughts. "That line from the DVD. 'Just lay back and enjoy it.' I heard Gory say that to-" Logan checked himself and glanced furtively at Veronica's father. He was pretty sure Keith didn't know about the nude video of his daughter that had circulated through the Hearst campus email network.

"Who did Gory say that to? When?" Keith was excited, like a hunting dog with a fresh scent.

"The school cafeteria. Last spring."

"Who was he talking to?"

Logan didn't answer. Veronica would never speak to him again if he told her dad about the video. As badly as Logan wanted to hang that bastard Gory for everything he had done, this conversation was getting too close to dangerous territory.

Unfortunately, Veronica wasn't the only PI in the family. Keith flushed deep red with anger when he correctly interpreted Logan's silence. "Gory Sorokin told Veronica to 'just lay back and enjoy it'? What the hell did he mean by that?"

"Nothing like what happened with Sivya," Logan rushed to reassure him. "Gory was collateral damage in another case Veronica solved. He was just trying to scare her."

Keith sat back and rubbed his forehead warily. "Zombies with Ebola couldn't scare that girl." He looked up at Logan. "And you're sure Gory said those exact words?"

"I was standing next to Veronica when he said it," Logan told him. _Right before I kicked his ass, _he almost added.

"Okay," Keith nodded. "Okay. But this catchphrase of his isn't evidence it's… coincidence. No way would a judge issue an arrest warrant based on what you've just told me, let alone convict Gory of murder. We need more before we go public."

"The hard drive," Logan said. "Gory's computer is all decked out with fancy video editing equipment. I bet that whatever is on his hard drive has something to do with the home movie he made of Sivya."

Keith dove for the safe. "Veronica keeps the techie stuff in the cabinet by the sink. See if you can find the right gadget," he instructed.

What Logan found was a huge jumble of wires and various electronics. He pulled the entire mess out and dumped it on Keith's desk. "Do you remember what it looks like?"

"When you get to be my age, you can't forget your past or remember your name." Keith shrugged apologetically.

Logan sighed and looked at the technological rats' nest. "This could take awhile. Veronica was going to make dinner at the apartment; we should have her come here. Maybe she could bring take-out."

"Wimp. I'll have you know, she gets both her good looks and her cooking skills from her mother." Keith dialed his daughter's number. No answer; Veronica's phone went straight to voicemail. "Honey, Logan and I are at the office. Can you swing by? Possibly with food more sustaining than instant macaroni? Love you."

The two men spent a frustrating twenty minutes plugging in wires and cursing technology. It was close to midnight, and they were tired and hungry. There was still no word from Veronica.

"Got it!" Logan shouted gleefully. "There are a lot of emails here. Apparently, his inbox is full but his life is empty."

Keith rushed to his side. Sure enough, Logan had managed to break into Gory's hard drive. "Start by searching for video files," Keith said. "There. That one."

Logan clicked the file Keith was pointing to. Immediately, the film documenting the last moment's of Sivya Denisovitch's life appeared onscreen. Except this version was different. This had to be the raw footage, because instead of being carefully cropped to only show Sivya, now the entire frame was visible. Including Gorya Sorokin, holding a knife to Sivya's throat as he brutally raped and killed her.

Keith copied the video file onto two DVDs. One he put in his safe, and the other he placed in his jacket pocket. He unhooked the hard drive and put it in a paper sack that had held his lunch several weeks ago. He tossed the moldy bread into a trash can. "We're taking this to the authorities. I'll call Vinnie and have him meet us at his office."

"You don't need to call. Molly Fitzpatrick was murdered tonight. I'm sure everyone's burning the midnight oil down at the Sheriff's Department, even Vinnie."

"Molly Fitzpatrick? The girl whose baby was missing?"

"Yeah. Her uncle Liam shot her. I guess you haven't seen the news. They haven't caught him yet."

Keith snorted in disdain. "I hope they get him, the creep." He held the door open for Logan. "Ready?"

Logan, however, was frozen in place. His eyes were glazed, his expression vacant. Veronica didn't answer her phone, and Liam Fitzpatrick was still free. And armed. What had Veronica said?

"_He'll come for me first."_

"Logan?" Keith asked. "What's wrong?"

Liam was too busy running from the law to go seeking out Veronica Mars, Logan told himself. Plus, she had made Logan promise not to tell Keith about her proximity to Molly's murder. Logan shook off his momentary panic. He was overreacting. "Nothing. Let's go."

As Logan had predicted, the Sheriff's Department was bustling with activity. Reporters crowded the reception desk, but Keith waived to Inga and she buzzed him and Logan past the low gate separating the hoards from the inner office. Logan made straight for Deputy Leo D'Amato.

"Any news on Liam Fitzpatrick? Do you have him yet?"

"Border crossings are shut down into Tijuana, and state patrol has road blocks on the PCH. Airport security is checking all passengers. But so far nothing; there's no sign of him."

Logan felt another wave of anxiety.

"Is Vinnie in his office?" Keith asked Leo.

"Yeah, I think so."

Keith entered the Sheriff's private office without knocking, Logan trailing behind. "I don't know, can't you block off the harbor or something?" Vinnie shouted into his phone. "You're the Coast Guard! So guard the God damned coast!" He slammed the phone into the receiver.

"I come bearing gifts," Keith said by way of greeting.

Vinnie eyed the paper sack Keith carried. "That better be pastrami on wheat or Liam Fitzpatrick's head."

"Sorry. Fresh out of both. But it pains me to say that this will boost your popularity with the good citizens of Neptune." Keith pulled out the DVD incriminating Gory Sorokin of murder. Vinnie reached for the disc, but Keith kept it at arm's length. "Hold on, Sheriff. First I want your promise that Veronica won't face any charges for her part in finding this evidence for you."

Vinnie threw his head back and laughed. "I knew it! She did steal something from my crime scene."

"So how about it? Which would you rather have, Veronica in jail or a killer?"

"C'mon Keith, like I'd put V in jail. You guys are like family! Weirdo cousins that nobody invites to Thanksgiving, but still family."

Keith rolled his eyes and handed over the DVD. They watched Sivya's murder while Keith filled in the details of his investigation. Finally, Vinnie leaned back in his chair and whistled. "Yikes. That's awful."

"I know. I still can't believe someone could do that to another human being."

Vinnie shook his head sadly. "No, I mean it's awful that I'm gonna have to arrest Lev Sorokin's nephew. He gave big bucks to my election campaign. Sachs!" he called. The harried deputy stuck his head in the door.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Gear up, and grab Jensen and Sully. We're going to Hearst College."

"Liam Fitzpatrick is at Hearst?" Sachs asked.

"Nah, I just feel like showing off my keg stand. If I make it over a minute, you owe me a beer." Sachs looked confused but nodded obediently and hustled to do as he was bidden. Vinnie grinned at Keith as he strapped on his own utility belt. "It must be two for the price of one day down at Mars Investigations. Business slow, Keith?"

Keith just stared at the sheriff blankly, but Logan shifted uncomfortably and crossed his arms. The defensive gesture caught Vinnie's eye. "Uh-oh," he cackled. "Have little Veronica and her boy-toy been sneaking around behind daddy's back?"

"Vinnie, do I even want to know what you're talking about?" Keith asked.

"Probably not. Veronica is my star witness in Molly Fitzpatrick's murder. V was standing next to her when Liam's car rolls up it's _hasta la vista, _blondie."

Keith turned to Logan and let out a strangled yell. "Liam Fitzpatrick shot at Veronica?"

Logan started to answer, but his cell phone interrupted him. The call came from his own suite at the Neptune Grand. "Ronnie?" He answered eagerly. _Love-sick schmuck,_ he told himself. _See, there was nothing to worry about._

"Dude, do we have any honey? Or whipped cream?"

"Dick?" Logan's heart sank. Where was Veronica?

"I'm kind of in a hurry, Bro. I could make do with peanut butter."

"Is Veronica there? I need to talk to her."

"I thought she was with you. She got a phone call, then took off. Good thing, too; your girlfriend is a total downer. Can you believe she turned down a-"

"Where did she go?" Logan interrupted.

"Man, I don't know. She said something about a party by a lake. Like at somebody's cabin. It sounded too rustic for me. If I want to be outdoorsy, I'll go get drunk on a patio."

Logan closed his eyes and cursed inwardly. Gory's party. Veronica wasn't being chased by a murderer, she was chasing one herself. And Logan had no idea how to find her. "I've got to go," he told Dick.

"Dude, what about the peanut butter- ?" Dick pleaded, but Logan hung up.

"Cancel the keg stand competition," Logan told Vinnie. "Gory Sorokin's not at Hearst. He's partying at his dad's cabin tonight. Veronica went after him."

Keith jumped to his feet. "By herself? Where's the cabin?" he asked ferociously. Clearly, he was a little upset that his daughter was tailing a brutal killer with a penchant for young blond women.

"I don't know. It's by a lake somewhere," Logan said miserably. He was furious with himself, and with Veronica. Why hadn't she told him she was going after Gory? Didn't she agree to let Logan protect her?

"There are at least a dozen lakes around Neptune!" Keith shouted.

"Calm down, Kujo," Vinnie ordered. "I can find your missing mini-Mars with a wave of my magic wand."

"Keep your wand to yourself. How do you know where she is?"

Vinnie typed something into his computer, then wiggled his fingers mystically over the keyboard. The image loaded, and Vinnie gestured for them to look. "Voila! And like magic, there's Veronica," he said proudly. A GPS dot blinked on his monitor. "Neat trick, huh?"

"A real magic trick would be you disappearing forever," Logan said snidely. "You bugged her?"

Vinnie punched his shoulder. "Lighten up, kid. Veronica stole evidence from a crime scene. I was just going to steal it back. Or use it against her later. I hadn't decided yet."

"Where is she going?" Keith wondered. They watched as Veronica's dot moved further east, up into the mountains.

"Lake Morena," Logan decided. He and Keith dashed out of Vinnie's office.

Vinnie grabbed his jacket from the back of his desk chair. "Wait! Wait for the people with badges! And guns!" he called after them.

*********

The Sorokins' cabin was perfect for a party. Outside, the lake sparkled in the moonlight. An old wooden dock held a sleek speedboat. It looked fast, and fun, but it sat unused tonight. The dock itself was situated ideally for cannon balls and skinny dipping. Music blared inside the cabin, but there were no neighbors to complain about the noise. _Thud, thud, thud, thud_ went the deep bass. Veronica's heart pounded nearly as loudly.

She moaned softly in terror and pain as she ran for her life, through a long corridor. Her leg bled profusely; she took her hand away just long enough to throw open a door. It didn't lead outside as she had hoped, but Veronica was out of options. She hurried into the darkness and nearly tumbled down a flight of steps.

_The cellar,_ she thought. Maybe there was a door or a window she could escape from. She limped down the stairs, her heavy bag bumping painfully against her wounded leg. Veronica didn't have time for pain. She had to escape. _Get to the car. _If she could make it outside, her Saturn was parked at the end of the access road leading to the cabin. Heavy footsteps chased after her.

"Veronica?" Gory Sorokin called. "Come on, Veronica. Don't be like that. It's a party. Let's have a little fun."

_Get to the car, get to the car, _Veronica chanted to herself. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she ran on.

***********

Keith's sedan whined in protest, straining to summit the mountainous roads at the speeds Keith demanded. A hairpin turn sent the car up on two wheels. Logan's uninjured right hand clutched his armrest, his knuckles white, but he didn't comment on their excessive velocity. He studied the portable GPS unit perched on the dash.

"Take a left," he told Keith. The car fishtailed on loose gravel, briefly losing momentum. Keith struggled to regain control, but within seconds they were whipping past the dark trees again at deadly speeds. The blue blinking dot that was their only link to Veronica was close. Very close.

Logan spotted a petite figure racing through the forest. "There!" he shouted. "I see her!"

In the dim moonlight, Keith and Logan could barely see Veronica's shining blond hair as she ran towards the silver Saturn partially hidden behind some low shrubs. They were still fifty yards away when she dove into the SUV. Keith slammed on the brakes. He didn't bother to park, he simply left the car in the middle of the road, engine running.

Logan tumbled out and ran after the older man. Veronica was just twenty yards from him, but she felt a million miles away. Logan heard the Saturn's engine sputter, but it didn't turn over. He put on an extra burst of speed and caught up to Keith. "Veronica!" he called in relief. Ten yards.

The heat and flames reached them before the sound of the explosion. The force of the blast threw both Logan and Keith bodily into the air, depositing them roughly on the hard ground.

Logan lay dazed on the forest floor. He couldn't remember why he was here, or what was happening. Was that a siren? It sounded a long way off, like Dick had left the TV on again. Logan turned his head to the right and saw Veronica's dad unconscious next to him. He was facedown, his head bleeding. Logan blinked and looked to his left. Flames danced up the sleeve of his jacket. Logan was mesmerized. His jacket was on fire. He felt strangely relaxed. He was on fire. There had been an explosion. He was on fire!

Logan bolted upright, but instantly dropped to his knees as a wave of vertigo and nausea overtook him. He struggled out of his jacket, still ablaze, while retching in the pine needles.

Nearby, Keith groaned and stirred slightly. Flames were inching up his pant leg. Logan crawled to the former sheriff's side and beat the fire out with his hands.

Vinnie and his deputies rushed towards them. Logan could see their patrol cars parked on the highway, the red and blue lights casting crazy shadows on the tree trunks. Sachs ran up with a portable extinguisher, but was forced to retreat. The blaze was an inferno, the silver SUV completely obscured by flames and smoke. Logan sat with his knees curled to his chest. Veronica's car was gone. Veronica was gone.


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER TWENTYSIX**

The paramedics insisted Logan submit to a complete hospital examination. He didn't argue. He rode in the ambulance with Keith back to Neptune. To Logan's way of thinking, Keith was the lucky one; the former sheriff was strapped to a gurney, still unconscious. Logan, meanwhile, was in a waking nightmare. People asked him questions, but he didn't hear them. He only heard the _woosh-bang_ of the explosion and screaming metal tearing itself apart. His eyes saw nothing, but his mind replayed the same images over and over: Veronica's lithe figure darting through the woods; Veronica's blonde hair framed in the rear window of her SUV; Veronica consumed instantly by a blazing supernova of light. And then nothing. One minute she was there, and then… nothing.

The hospital was chaos. When Logan arrived, he was whisked off to x-ray. They took pictures of his broken left hand, his ribs, and his head. Some part of him wanted to laugh; he was finally getting his head examined. Veronica would be happy.

_Would have been happy_, Logan corrected himself. He felt his throat constrict, thinking of Veronica in past tense, but no tears came. He was in shock, too stunned to cry.

A nurse put Logan in a private exam room. "Here, dear, this will help you breathe easier. Clear all that nasty smoke from your lungs." She handed him an oxygen mask. Logan just looked at it, dazed. He hadn't even noticed his throat felt burnt, blistered. The kindly nurse slipped it over Logan's head for him.

"Oh, look at your hand," she said sympathetically. She lifted his plaster-encased left wrist and examined the cast, part of which had been burnt and mangled in the explosion. She rummaged in a drawer and pulled out a pair of hefty shears. "We'll just get rid of this old thing. I'm sure the doctor will want to give you a new one anyway."

Logan watched passively as she cut through the enforced gauze. He read the message Veronica had drawn the night they had staked out the River Stix, looking for Molly Fitzpatrick. "IF FOUND, RETURN TO VERONICA." Logan's eyes traced the pink impression of Veronica's lips that served as her autograph.

"There we are," the nurse said. She started to discard the plaster remnants in a nearby waste basket.

"Can I keep it?" Logan asked.

The nurse smiled. "I'm sure your young lady will sign the new one," she teased. Logan didn't answer, and the woman's smile faded. She handed him the broken cast. "Here. The doctor will be in to see you shortly."

Logan waited twenty minutes, then slipped off the exam table and into the busy corridor. He went to the nurses' station.

"I need to see Keith Mars."

The harried orderly indicated the hallway to his left. Logan found Veronica's dad heavily bandaged but awake. Pale morning light filtered through the window. Keith lay in a hospital bed, an IV taped to his arm. The TV was tuned to local news, Channel Nine. Keith didn't say anything when Logan came and sat by his bedside. That was okay; Logan wasn't sure what he could've said to the older man anyway.

They watched as the last flames were extinguished in the smoldering wreckage that was Veronica's silver Saturn. The news reports gradually became clearer. Martina Vasquez reported that Balboa County law enforcement was investigating what appeared to be a car bombing near Lake Morena. Witnesses to the explosion had been hospitalized, but were in stable condition. Rumors of fatalities remained unsubstantiated. Stay tuned for more details.

The pretty brunette newscaster was solemn and spoke with a mixture of sympathy and professionalism. Her expression was sincere, her makeup perfect. Logan hated her.

Regardless, he continued to sit with Keith. Not a word passed between them. Soon Martina returned with the latest development in what was clearly the top story of the day. _"If it burns or bleeds, it leads," _Logan remembered their Neptune High journalism teacher used to say.

"Two bodies were discovered at the scene of the Lake Morena car bombing," Martina told her viewers.

Two bodies? Logan sat forward in his chair, and even Keith straightened with interest.

"The first, a young man identified by the FBI as Gorya Sorokin."

Agent Ben Schuler appeared onscreen in front of the Sorokins' lakeside cabin. "Mr. Sorokin was part of an ongoing investigation into an international human trafficking ring. Six kidnapped women ages seventeen to twenty-four were found here at the Sorokins' proprerty."

"Yeah, I actually came here to arrest Gorya Sorokin for murder based on evidence recovered by the Balboa County Sheriff's Department," interrupted Vinnie Van Lowe. _Poor Vinnie_, thought Logan. They guy was a sarcastic son of a bitch, but then again, so was Logan. Logan felt a wave of unexpected affection for the former PI, who had clearly been eclipsed by the FBI on his first big case as Sheriff.

Schuler continued unperturbed. "It appears Mr. Sorokin was unwilling to face the consequences of his actions. After planting a bomb in his last victim's vehicle, he shot himself once in the head. A note found with the body confessed to leading the trafficking operation, as well as the murder of trafficking victim Sivya Denisovitch."

"Bullshit!" Logan exclaimed. "There's no way Gory was behind the trafficking ring."

"It sounds like Uncle Lev took his lemons and made lemonade," Keith agreed. "With Gory dead, why not plant a fake suicide note and blame the trafficking on him? He was already being charged with murder."

Martina reappeared bearing more grim tidings. "As for Gorya Sorokin's final victim, the remains of a young woman were found in the debris of the car bomb. Damage is too extensive to allow for positive visual identification, but personal effects found with the body have led investigators to tentatively confirm the woman was a Hearst College student." Vinnie held up Veronica's melted Hearst Student ID card and the digital camera she always carried, both sealed in evidence bags.

"The Balboa County Sheriff's Department is withholding the name of the victim until her family can be notified," Martina concluded.

Keith reached for the remote and switched off the television. Tears were rolling freely down his cheeks, but Logan still felt to numb to process his emotions. Someone tapped lightly on the door and Deputy Sachs stepped into the room, hat in hand.

Logan stirred from his chair. "I need a shower. I should go home."

Logan didn't go home. Where was home for Logan Echolls, anyway? The Neptune Grand? What a joke. Instead, he wandered into the hospital lounge. The room was empty, thankfully. Logan sank into a cheap vinyl sofa and closed his eyes. This wing of the hospital was quieter than the emergency ward. The only noise Logan heard was a janitor's cart in the hall. One wheel squeaked as it was pushed ahead of the man mopping the already shining floors.

Logan bought a soda from the vending machine. The acidic liquid burned his smoke-parched throat, but Logan welcomed the pain. A little burning was nothing compared to the horrible death Veronica had endured.

All of the sudden, Logan's insides were churning. He gagged on the soda, sending carbonation fizzing up his nose. The bottle fell to the floor as Logan raced for the nearest restroom. He burst into a stall mere seconds before his stomach turned itself inside out. There wasn't much to throw up; he hadn't eaten in hours. After several minutes of dry heaves, Logan pulled himself upright and splashed his face in the sink. He closed his eyes and let cold rivulets of water run down his neck.

"I'm glad you make yourself as sick as you make me."

Logan's eyes flew open. He had just enough time to register his own pale and drawn reflection in the mirror before Eli Navarro smashed Logan's head into the glass.

"The next words out of your mouth better be brilliant, because they're going on your tombstone," Weevil snarled. He wore a janitor's uniform and held the mop in his hands like a baseball bat.

Logan touched his forehead. Thick blood oozed between his fingertips. "Fuck you," he replied.

Weevil swung the mop and caught Logan square in the face. Logan didn't hesitate; he launched himself bodily at his attacker. They crashed into the row of toilet stalls. Logan's body left a huge dent in one of the doors and busted the hinges so that it hung at a crazy angled. Weevil scrambled up from the floor and threw a metal wastebasket down on Logan's head. Logan went down hard, smacking his chin on the tiles. Weevil's heavy boots met Logan's ribs once, twice, three times.

The beating might have continued several more minutes, but Weevil wasn't prepared for Logan's reaction. Instead of cursing, instead of fighting back, Logan was… laughing. Laughing while blood poured freely down his face.

"Come on, Paco, you can do better than that! Put your wet back into it," Logan said through the blood. "You want to hurt me? You'd be doing me a favor."

Weevil grabbed a handful of toiletpaper and threw it angrily at his adversary. "Shit, man, get up."

But Logan rolled over onto his back and continued to laugh manically. He threw his arm across his eyes, too ashamed to look at his former classmate. "I was there. And she was there, we had found her. But I couldn't save her. I loved her, but I couldn't save her." Logan said hysterically from his prone position on the grimy floor.

"I loved her, too, you know." Weevil was breathing heavily, whether from anger or anguish Logan couldn't say. "Veronica was my best friend. And now she's dead." _Thanks to you,_ was implied in Weevil's accusatory tone.

Logan pinched his eyes shut, attempting to block out the mental image of Veronica's burning SUV. He regarded Weevil's stolen janitorial uniform. "What's with the costume?"

"I wanted to see Sheriff Mars. Express my condolences. For some reason hospital security didn't believe I was family."

Logan smiled bitterly. "I get it. Why Veronica was friends with you. You're funny, if you can understand the accent. Did they have a Lame Jokes 101 class in ESL?"

Weevil kicked the discarded trash bin. "You want to play twenty questions? How about this: why do all the women in your life die young? First Lilly, then your mom, and now Veronica." He stormed out of the bathroom.

********

Logan left the hospital, but he didn't go back to the Grand. He knew from experience, the reporters wouldn't be long to connect Veronica to him. His phone would soon be ringing off the hook with gossip journalists looking for a heartfelt quote they could sell to the celebrity tabloids. Add another chapter to the _Tinsletown Diaries_. Logan Echolls, a Tale of Two Murdered Girlfriends.

Besides, if he went back to his suite he'd have to talk to Dick. Logan already knew Dick's solution for any crisis: liberal quantities of alcohol. So why wait? Logan used the fake ID Veronica had given him years ago and purchased a large bottle of whiskey from a twenty-four hour convenience store. Sure it was only mid-morning in Neptune, but it was five o'clock somewhere. Probably in Eastern Europe. _Here's to you, Sivya._

He drove aimlessly and found himself near the cliffs of La Jolla. He parked his yellow X-Terra at a park overlooking the ocean and watched the waves crash. He opened the whiskey and took a long pull from the bottle.

Logan liked this park. He could see the Coronado Bridge, where his mother had ended her life nearly three years ago. He downed several more gulps and could feel a pleasant buzz starting. He imagined what it would be like to fly through the air, the ocean rushing to greet him. Cathartic, he thought.

Once, the school psychologist had told him he should be grateful he wasn't dead like Lilly. _"What's so great about living?" _he had asked.

Lilly's murder had shaken him. But Logan and Veronica had faced countless trials together. She knew Logan better than anyone, and still loved him. In the years since Lilly's death, Veronica had become the center of Logan's life. They were connected in mind, body and soul. So why was Logan still here? He honestly felt this must be some sort of oversight. One he should correct.

Logan wandered to the edge of the cliffs. A low stone wall surrounded the overlook. He put one foot on top of the wall and hesitated. He was drunk. He should wait until he was sober and could think more clearly. Except that Veronica would still be dead. A sob escaped his chest and he quickly scrambled up all the way onto the wall.

"FUCK!" He screamed into the open air. He dropped the empty bottle of whiskey and watched it fall into the waves below. "FUCK!"

"Those have to be the least inspired last words ever. I know you can do better than that."

Logan whipped around in surprise. A loose stone gave out from under him and tumbled down the rocky precipice. Logan hovered in the air, his arms windmilling dangerously.


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER TWENTYSEVEN**

_TWELVE HOURS EARLIER:_

"Dick, why are you lurking in Logan's room?" Veronica asked, eyes wide with surprise. She had just emerged from the shower and her hair dripped wetly onto the carpet. Thank God she had wrapped up in a towel before leaving the bathroom. She cinched it more securely faced with Dick's unapologetic stare.

"Lurking?" Dick's eyebrows shot up. He rummaged in Logan's nightstand drawer next to the bed. "I'm not lurking. I live here. You look fab, by the way. Turkish cotton really suits you."

"You don't live in this room. Why are you _here_, Dick?" Veronica growled.

"Because it's been too long since I felt the mortifying regret of a one night stand." Dick pulled a long strip of condoms from the drawer.

Veronica's mouth fell open in shock. "Eww!" she finally managed to squeal. She worked hard to keep calm, but in the back of her mind were thoughts of Cassidy Casablancas. She backed away several paces.

Dick frowned at her. "As if. Where's Logan? I need to borrow some supplies. I've got a smokin' hottie from Australia in my bed, and you know me… I'm big down under."

"Alright, that's just as gross. Out!" Veronica commanded. She pushed him through the bedroom door and slammed it in his face. She dressed rapidly and dried her hair, throwing her last remaining toiletries in her duffel. She hoisted it on her shoulder and went to collect her laptop from the dining room table.

Dick's tousled head popped out from his room. "Ronnie, sweet girl, friend, person whom I have always respected and admired…" he began.

"What do you want, Dick?" The question came out harsher than she had intended. _Dick doesn't know what Beaver did,_ Veronica had to remind herself. She should be nicer to Logan's best friend.

"Could you use one of your fake IDs to order some champagne for me? I think getting this girl drunk would help her better appreciate my witty charms." Dick's shirt was halfway open. Several buttons were missing, and Veronica could see angry red finger marks on his chest and arms.

Best friend status aside, this was still Dick. Veronica smiled sweetly. "Sorry, person who I have always loathed and avoided, I don't think I can help you get your Australian Sheila too drunk to notice what a perv you are."

Dick looked confused. "Sheila? Her name is Lisa!"

Veronica's phone rang. "Hold that thought. Try holding any thought for more than thirty seconds," she told him. She checked her caller ID and quickly answered. "Where are you?"

Dick drummed his fingers impatiently on the table next to her. "If that's Logan, tell him he needs to be more adventurous when it comes to sex toys," he whispered loudly.

Veronica waved him off impatiently. "Did you see the news yet?"

"I did. That's why I'm calling," Agent Ben Schuler told her. "It's a shame about Molly Fitzpatrick, but excellent work locating the stolen goods. Did they find Gorya's computer? Is the Sheriff going to make an arrest?"

"Thanks," Veronica said to Schuler. She glanced at Dick hovering nearby and chose her words carefully. "The Sheriff doesn't have it. I haven't looked through it yet, but I'll let you know what I find."

"Wait, _you_ have Gorya's computer?" Schuler clarified.

"Yes…" Veronica admitted, fearing a reprimand. None came.

"Oh. Again, excellent work." Schuler paused, obviously wrestling with some decision. "There's still no sign of those hired guns Rosenswag helped escape, so it looks like I'm going to be stuck in L.A. for awhile. I know I told you Gorya was a lower priority, but it seems he's the best lead we have right now. Would you mind staking out the party he's throwing tonight? I doubt there's anything more criminal going on there than underage drinking, but you never know. And I hear from Assistant Director Krieg that you're pretty handy with a camera."

"Oh! Sure, I'll go to the party. The cabin is at which lake?" Veronica was ecstatic. A solo assignment, plus kudos from her boss at the FBI! Schuler gave her the address for the Sorokins' cabin at Lake Morena.

"And Veronica," he said before ending the conversation, "that computer may be the only evidence we have in this case. Keep it with you. Keep it safe."

"Got it. See you later." Veronica hung up. Logan had already taken the hard drive to the offices of Mars Investigations, but Schuler didn't need to know that. Gory's wicked secrets would be secure enough in her dad's safe for the night.

"So how about a little bubbly?" Dick asked again. "You scratch my back, and I bet Lisa will let you scratch hers too."

"Hmm… there's a word I'm looking for here… oh yeah: NO. More like HELL NO," Veronica told him firmly. She grabbed her gear and strode out of the suite.

"You know Mars, if you were a Spice Girl you'd be Bitchy Spice," Dick called after her. The door shut with a resounding thud.

***********

Veronica was well out of town before she remembered Logan and her dad were waiting on her for dinner. "Frak," she swore aloud.

The road switchbacked dangerously through the mountains, but Veronica risked death by fiery crash to pull out her cell phone and dial home. The call didn't go through. "NO SERVICE," read the tiny display screen.

"Frak," she repeated vehemently into the dark night. Still, she continued to guide her silver Saturn around the tight curves leading towards Lake Morena. Logan and her dad would just have to play nice together until she got back. Soon she had found the access road Schuler had told her to look for. Ostensibly, Gory's other guests would have parked nearer the party, but Veronica opted to hide her SUV in woods by the highway and hike the last mile to the lake. She took her bag packed with stakeout gear. Camera, check. Taser, check. Half-finished essay on Dostoyevsky and a My Little Pony pen? Check. Veronica sighed with regret, thinking of Sivya Denisovitch and the other girls the Sorokins had kidnapped and forced into prostitution.

_I'll show you Crime and Punishment, Gorya Sorokin,_ she vowed.

The Sorokins' cabin was perfect for a party. Outside, the lake sparkled in the moonlight. An old wooden dock held a sleek speedboat. It looked fast, and fun, but it sat unused tonight. The dock itself was situated ideally for cannon balls and skinny dipping. Music blared inside the cabin, but there were no neighbors to complain about the noise. _Thud, thud, thud, thud_ went the deep bass. Veronica's heart pounded nearly as loudly.

She circled the house, but couldn't get a clear view from outside. There were plenty of people, though. As long as she stayed clear of Gory, she could probably mingle unnoticed. She tried the backdoor and found it unlocked, so she slipped inside.

The "cabin" was really more of a lakeside mansion, Veronica discovered. It was built into the steeply sloped lakeshore, so that many of the rooms were actually dug out of the hillside. The place was huge, but she managed to find the spacious living room. Its vaulted floor to ceiling windows offered a spectacular view of the lake, or would have in the daylight. The natural scenery definitely wasn't the main focus of this party. At least half a dozen beautiful young women were entertaining Gory Sorokin's guests. Who were all male, Veronica realized. The Castle, or at least its college-age members. Maybe she wouldn't blend at this shin-dig as well as she'd hoped.

Still, she'd come this far. She snapped a few photos of the scene. These girls had to be the recently arrived "merchandise" Gory had borrowed from his Uncle Lev. Unfortunately, snapshots of happy party-goers weren't exactly a smoking gun. Except that one of the girls didn't look like she was having much fun.

Veronica watched as one of the young men pulled the girl into his lap. He fondled her roughly and tried to kiss her, but she pulled away with a cry of displeasure. He laughed as the girl struggled to free herself from his restraining hands. "Hey Gory! I don't think she's broken in yet!" he called.

Gory grabbed the girl roughly by her long, light-brown hair. He whispered something threatening in Russian, but she only fought harder. The other girls only watched dispassionately, as if they knew resistance was futile. Gory, apparently, sought to drive the point home. "This one needs a little one on one lesson," he told his friends. He dragged the girl by her hair towards the open doorway where Veronica had concealed herself. She slipped away quietly and ducked down the stairs, but Gory and his unwilling playmate followed behind. Veronica darted into the first room she came across, what turned out to be a bedroom. Veronica crawled under the king-size four poster mere milliseconds before Gory burst in and threw the girl on the bed over Veronica's head.

He spoke to her in English. "Do you know what happens to girls who misbehave?" The girl didn't answer, so he continued. "They are punished."

The girl responded in Russian. She sounded frightened. _Punished?_ Veronica wondered. She wished more than anything she were safe at home with Logan and her dad right now, not trapped under a bed with some psycho Russian playing out his S&M fantasies. From her perspective on the floor, all Veronica could see were Gory's feet. Except… across the room was a full-length mirror. As Veronica watched the ugly scene unfold above her, she hoped Gory wouldn't spot her reflection in the mirror.

Gory laughed cruelly and something sharp glinted in his hand. "You see this knife? This knife killed a girl. She was a whore like you. She needed to be punished." He was talking about Sivya, Veronica realized. Gory killed Sivya. Was that what's on the computer, evidence of the murder?

Gory slowly unzipped the girl's dress. He held the knife to her throat, the long blade perilously close to her pulsing veins. When she was naked, he removed his own clothes. "You need to be punished. But if you want my advice, you should just lay back and enjoy it."

Veronica's blood boiled. No way could she idle nearby and watch a rape unfold without acting to prevent it. She jumped up, her camera ready, and snapped a photo of Gory en flagrante. Although he was temporarily blinded by the flash, he lunged at Veronica anyway, knife in hand. She tried to flee, but Gory tackled her to the floor. Veronica rolled away from her attacker as the knife flashed downward in a deadly arc. Instead of her heart, the knife penetrated Veronica's right leg just above the knee. White-hot pain ripped through Veronica's nerves. Gory pulled the blade free and moved forward to strike again, but the girl on the bed kicked him from behind. He stumbled, and Veronica half-ran, half-fell out the bedroom door.

She moaned softly in terror and pain as she ran for her life through a long corridor. Her leg bled profusely; she took her hand away just long enough to throw open a door at the end of the hall. It didn't lead outside as she had hoped, but Veronica was out of options. She hurried into the darkness and nearly tumbled down a flight of steps.

_The cellar,_ she thought. Maybe there was a door or a window she could escape from. She limped down the stairs, her heavy bag bumping painfully against her wounded leg. Veronica didn't have time for pain. She had to escape. _Get to the car. _If she could make it outside, her Saturn was parked at the end of the access road leading to the cabin. Heavy footsteps chased after her.

"Veronica?" Gory Sorokin called. "Come on, Veronica. Don't be like that. It's a party. Let's have a little fun."

_Get to the car, get to the car, _Veronica chanted to herself. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she ran on.

*********************'

Author's note: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! This story is nearly finished, and I've really appreciated all the feedback. Here's the deal- I have a sequel in mind. Same style, new case (sort of a "next episode"). So my question is, should I continue as planned? Any suggestions or improvements? Thanks all! Keep reading, this is going to get good!


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER TWENTYEIGHT**

"Veronica?" Gory Sorokin called. "Come on, Veronica. Don't be like that. It's a party. Let's have a little fun."

_Get to the car, get to the car, _Veronica chanted to herself. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she ran on. The cellar was dark, the only illumination faint moonbeams from the narrow ventilation windows set high in the foundation walls. In her haste to escape, Veronica crashed headlong into some sort of rough wooden table set in the middle of the floor. She gasped in pain and doubled over, clutching her wounded leg, but Gory's heavy footsteps on the stairs behind her quickly set her in motion again.

Veronica groped blindly in the darkness, following the wall, when her hands found a large metal latch. A door, she realized. She slipped through, hoping to find herself outside. For a moment, she thought she had made it. It was certainly cold enough to be the nighttime mountain air; but where was the moon, and the stars? Where was the lake? Veronica couldn't see anything. She shuffled forward a few paces, and found herself touching industrial shelving. She hadn't escaped outside; she had trapped herself in some sort of walk-in freezer!

"Veronica," Gory called from outside the door. "Where are you? You're here somewhere. And when I find you…" Suddenly, the freezer door was thrown open wide. "Ha!" Gory yelled as he bound into the small room. He held the knife aloft, ready to strike, but Veronica was nowhere to be seen.

Under the shelves laden with frozen steaks and venison, the petite detective was watched her pursuer whip around in confusion. She had slid into the narrow space between the cold cement floor and the bottom shelf just in time. She held her hands to her mouth, in part to hide the steaming vapors of her warm breath in the frigid air, and in part to muffle the sounds of her quiet sobs.

Gory reached above his head and suddenly the room was filled with the comparatively brilliant glare a single bare bulb. It swung by its cord, casting crazy shadows everywhere. Gory's dark eyes were just as crazy.

"I know you're in here, bitch!" he roared. He swept his arm across the top shelf of Veronica's hiding place, sending a shower of frozen hamburger patties down to the floor in front of her. And something else, something bigger. Whatever it was stopped spinning and came to rest just inches from Veronica's face. Veronica stared in horror, but Sivya's blank eyes stared back with no expression at all. The young Russian woman's head had been completely severed. Apparently, even in death Sivya could not claim ownership of her body.

Veronica couldn't help it; a low moan of terror passed through her chattering teeth. Immediately, Gory crouched down and spotted his target. He reached for Veronica's ankle and dragged her roughly from underneath the shelving. Veronica clutched at her bag and tried to twist away from Gory and his deadly blade, but the pain in her leg made her cry out.

"I'm sorry Veronica, did I hurt you?" Gory asked sadistically.

"Not as much as I'm going to hurt you," Veronica spat back. She lunged toward her attacker, taser in hand, and sent 50,000 volts of electricity through his body.

While Gory lay incapacitated, writhing in pain on the freezer floor, Veronica limped back into the cellar. She fumbled with the freezer latch, trying to insert the locking pin, but her hands were shaking much too badly.

"Veronica. What are you doing in here?" a deep male voice asked from behind her.

Veronica screamed and whirled to face this new threat, brandishing her sparking weapon of choice. Agent Ben Schuler calmly twisted her wrist and took the taser away from her. "Whoa, there. I don't think you'll need this anymore tonight."

"Oh my God, you're here," Veronica sobbed thankfully. Losing all semblance of professionalism, she hugged Schuler tightly. "Gory's in the freezer. He killed Sivya!"

Schuler carefully disengaged himself from Veronica's frantic clutches. "I know. Sherriff Van Lowe issued an arrest warrant less than an hour ago. I heard it on the dispatch radio, the deputies will be here any minute."

"That must have been the evidence on Gory's computer. Did Logan and Dad bring it to Vinnie?" Veronica wondered.

"I didn't stop to find out. I came here as soon as I heard." Schuler eyed Veronica speculatively. "I thought I told _you_ to keep the hard drive. You were supposed stake out the cabin and wait for me in your car. I told you to give _me_ the hard drive, not hand it over to the local bumbling Sherriff."

Veronica sniffed tearfully. "Logan said he would put it in my dad's safe for me. I thought it'd be safer there than in my car all night. I guess he and my dad took a look first."

"Did you give Logan any other evidence?"

"No, but I have some photos on my camera of the missing trafficking victims at tonight's party. And of Gory raping one of the girls at knifepoint, like he did with Sivya."

Schuler nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. Let's get this over with." He studied Veronica's taser still in his hands. "How does this thing work?"

Veronica moved closer and pointed out the trigger. "Just squeeze-"

She dropped to the floor unconscious when Agent Schuler touched the weapon to her chest, just above her heart.

* * *

Veronica woke up, but for some reason her nightmare continued on. Maybe she wasn't really awake yet. Veronica shut her eyes tightly and opened them again, but the scene didn't change. She was handcuffed to a solid wooden work bench in the Sorokins' cellar. With the lights on, she could see the pegboard walls were hung with sharp tools. Chisels. Axes. Saws.

Veronica looked away, but the opposite wall provided no relief. Dark brown stains covered the faded paint in intricate cast-off patterns. Thousands of individual droplets combined to form the most gruesome mosaic Veronica had ever seen. Her chest heaved in panic, and she strained against her chains.

"Ah, welcome back," Gory said pleasantly. He smiled maliciously from behind a digital video recorder. "You know, I can see why that sexy little film of your cheerleading routine was so popular last year at Hearst. But I think we can do better this time, don't you?"

"You're a monster," Veronica snarled.

"Oh, that's good. Very dramatic. My only regret, little starlet, is that _this_ time you won't be around to enjoy your popularity. Don't worry, though, I'll make sure everyone sees our great masterpiece. Including your father." Gory lowered the camera for a moment and glared savagely. "I'll send him his own personal copy."

Veronica wouldn't play his game. She stared at the ceiling, stubbornly refusing to look at the camera or say anything else for the entertainment of this sick bastard.

"No last words?" Gory asked. He approached her slowly, camera in one hand, knife in the other. Without warning, the blade arched down to meet Veronica's exposed flesh. She screamed, terrified and expecting pain, but none came. She glanced down and saw the knife quivering in the tabletop, millimeters from her torso. The stress was too much; as much as she tried to keep her emotions in check, tears poured down her cheeks.

Gory grinned upon hearing her soft cries. "Much better. It sets the mood, Starlet."

"Quit fucking around with that camera," Schuler growled as he walked down the steps. "That's what got you into trouble in the first place. Anyway, the Sherriff's men will be here any minute."

"What got me into trouble was you not being able to control the FBI's little ingénue here," Gory complained, but he turned the camera off. "That's what my uncle pays you for."

"Your uncle pays me to clean up messes," Schuler corrected.

Gory shrugged unconcernedly. "So clean this up."

Schuler carefully put on latex surgical gloves and pulled a pistol from his jacket pocket. From his other pocket, he drew a silencer and screwed the device onto the pistol's barrel. "Gory, your Uncle Lev wanted me to pass along a message to you."

"What does the old man want now?" Gory sneered.

"Clean up your own fucking messes." Before the younger man could react, Schuler delivered a single fatal bullet to Gory's head.

Veronica flinched as her face was covered with a fine mist of Gory's blood, but she couldn't move her hands to wipe off the offending matter. Gory crumpled to the floor, just at the edge of her peripheral vision. She watched a dark pool spread beneath his skull. Schuler stepped around the blood carefully and placed the pistol in Gory's hand. Schuler wrapped the young man's lifeless fingers around the weapon.

"Murder-suicides are particularly sad, don't you think?" Schuler asked Veronica calmly.

"Nobody will believe it," Veronica warned him. She might have been more convincing if her voice hadn't cracked.

"Oh, I think the Sheriff will buy it," Schuler reassured her. "You're training to be a criminalist. Surely you're familiar with Occam's Razor."

Veronica sighed. "The simplest explanation is the most likely to be true."

"Very good," complimented her former professor. "So you tell me, which is the simpler explanation? That Gory Sorokin, known killer, claimed one last victim before taking his own life? Or that the federal agent sent to investigate the Sorokin family killed Gory and his victim for no apparent reason?"

Veronica didn't bother to answer. Instead she simply asked, "Why?"

Schuler smiled bitterly. "I told you; the money is too good. You should really be thanking me. I'm saving you from a lifetime of bad pay, long hours, and no gratitude. Because it never gets better. The good guys never win. For every one of the scumbags we take off the street, five more take his place."

"You killed Molly Fitzpatrick." It wasn't a question. Veronica just needed to hear him say it.

Schuler exhaled heavily. "Lev Sorokin pays me to keep the family out of hot water. When Gory's computer was stolen, I didn't see any way to get it back without calling attention to myself. But with Molly dead and Liam on the run, there was no reason the computer couldn't stay lost forever."

"Why would Liam run if he didn't kill Molly?" Veronica wondered.

"He'd still be on the hook for the robberies at Hearst and around Neptune. I knew he'd run. He was the perfect fall guy. Just like Gory is going to take the fall for his family's trafficking business."

"And this unfortunate murder-suicide."

"Like I said, sad."

Suddenly, the room lit up with blue sparks, and Schuler went down as quickly as Gory had. Over Schuler's unconscious body stood Tess Rosenswag, Schuler's erstwhile partner.

"Getting zapped by same taser as your victims; is that irony or just coincidence?" Veronica asked shakily as Rosenswag unlocked her handcuffs.

"Who fucking cares?" Rosenswag shot back. She dragged a chair underneath one of the high windows.

"Good point." Veronica stood and swayed dizzily. The place where Gory had stabbed her leg radiated pain, and blood and soaked her entire pant leg.

Rosenswag pushed on the window, but finally gave up and broke the glass. "Come on," she instructed. She slid through the narrow window with ease, but Veronica was having more difficulty.

"Hand me your bag," Rosenswag told her. The terse FBI agent pulled Veronica through the window, into the cool night air. Veronica lay panting on the grass, staring up at the stars. She felt tired, and strangely peaceful, but that was probably from blood loss. She felt Rosenswag's boot nudge her elbow impatiently.

"Get up. That traitorous rat Schuler will wake up any second."

Veronica nodded drowsily and tried to stand, but apparently she wasn't quick enough for Rosenswag. The older woman threw Veronica's arm over her shoulders and half carried her away from the cabin. "Where were you?" Veronica asked. "You've been gone for weeks."

"I was here," Rosenswag huffed as she and Veronica ran for the cover of the nearby forest. "After the raid on the Sorokins' warehouse, I started tailing Lev Sorokin around the clock. I didn't tell Schuler. Imagine my surprise when he showed up, and he and Lev got to talking about their financial arrangement."

"Did they catch you?"

Rosenswag grimaced. "Yeah. They kept me here with a couple of their brainless watchdogs until they could figure out what to do with me."

"But I saw you in L.A., on tape," Veronica told her. "Schuler said you helped a couple of Lev's henchmen escape from lockup."

"It was staged. They couldn't have Vadim and the other one testify. So they used the story Schuler had created, about me working for the Sorokins. They gave me an empty gun and pushed me out of another car." Rosenswag laughed sardonically. "Schuler was supposed to kill me in the 'crossfire' but I managed to get away. I stole a car and came back here, hoping I could gather more evidence before I went to A.D. Keller at the FBI."

They finally reached the tree line, and both women paused to catch their breath. Veronica sank to the forest floor, hidden from the cabin by a large pine tree. She groaned in pain as Rosenswag removed her belt and fashioned a tourniquet around Veronica's leg.

"More evidence?" Veronica panted. "You already found some?"

Rosenswag nodded to her purse. "Everything we need to hang that bastard is in there." Suddenly, she dropped to the ground next to Veronica.

"Tess! Veronica! There's nowhere you can run," Schuler bellowed. Veronica peered cautiously through the trees. Schuler was heading their way, pistol in hand.

"Shit. He's awake. My car is about two miles east. Where's yours?" Rosenswag asked.

"Less than a mile down the south access road, but there's no way I can outrun Schuler." Veronica gestured helplessly to her wounded leg.

Rosenswag grabbed Veronica's bag. "Are your keys in here?" Veronica nodded. "Okay, then you stay here. Just be quiet and stay hidden. I'll run to the car and flag the Sheriff. I just hope that idiot doesn't get lost."

Rosenswag was poised to start her mad sprint down the mountain, but Veronica grabbed her hand. "Tess, I just wanted to say…" Veronica swallowed hard against the tears that were threatening to spill out again. "Thank you. Thank you for saving my life tonight."

"Yeah, well. The night's still young. And you really need to take some self-defense classes; you hit like a girl." And with that, Tess disappeared into the night.

Veronica laughed quietly, despite the dire circumstances, but her mirth was short-lived. Less than a hundred yards away, Schuler was scouring the undergrowth. Veronica closed her eyes and thought invisible thoughts. He was getting closer.


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER TWENTYNINE**

Tess Rosenswag had gone to college on track scholarship. And although she was naturally lithe, she had kept her trim body in peak condition throughout FBI training at Quantico, Virginia. Many of her male colleagues thought she would slacken her pace after acing the field agent exams, but if anything she had pushed herself harder. Was she too competitive? Probably, but the twelve miles Tess ran every morning wasn't about getting ahead professionally. She simply enjoyed watching the scenery fly by, the quiet time before the rest of the world started their day.

As she ran through the trees, Tess knew she should be worried. She was caught between a corrupt agent and an entire crime family, all well-armed and intent on killing her. And her only backup was a kid with a gimp leg. Tess should have been downright terrified, but instead she concentrated on moving her legs faster, on breathing steadily. She was fast. She was untouchable. And no way was that rat Schuler going to win this race.

Tess broke free of the trees and found herself running parallel to the south access road. In the bright moonlight she could see Veronica's SUV just a few meters ahead. On the empty road below, a car suddenly careened around the curving hillside and its headlights swept briefly over Tess. She spared a glance at the vehicle as she ran, but it was unmarked. Not one of the Sheriff's deputies, then. Was the car full of more drunken collegiate party-goers, or had Lev Sorokin sent Schuler some of his mafia enforcers? The car skidded to a stop and two men barreled out, running straight for Tess.

Agent Rosenswag put on an extra burst of speed, her long blond hair streaming behind her and snagging on several low-hanging branches. Tess reached Veronica's Saturn as the men struggled uphill through the underbrush. She quickly let herself in and locked the doors. Tess was vindictively grateful the men had left their car abandoned; she would ram it on her way down the mountain, leaving those sons-of-bitches stranded in the woods. She hoped they met a hungry bear or a mountain lion.

Tess tried the ignition, but the engine coughed and died. Damn it! The men were getting closer. One of them shouted something- did he say "Veronica"? Tess flooded the accelerator with gas and turned the key again, and this time-

****************

In an instant, night turned to day. Veronica threw her hand up to shield her eyes as the massive fireball exploded above the treetops. Immediately, she glanced back at Schuler. The corrupt agent was just fifty feet from where she lay hidden. Had he seen her? Apparently not; he lowered his silenced pistol and chuckled menacingly.

"Ah, Veronica. Looks like you found my insurance policy. Couldn't have you running off to the Sheriff with any wild stories. Or evidence," he said aloud. He stood a moment at the edge of the clearing surrounding the Sorokins' cabin, admiring his handy work burning in the distance.

Thick smoke wafted past, and Veronica could see orange flames dancing between the tree trunks. She struggled not to cough, and tears stung her eyes. Schuler had planted a bomb in her car? Of course- when he had called her at the Neptune Grand, she had told the agent she had Gory Sorokin's incriminating hard drive. This had been Schuler's plan all along, to kill her and destroy the evidence. Except it was poor Tess Rosenswag who had been blown up instead of Veronica- Tess, and all the evidence that would connect Schuler to the Sorokins.

Gory's guests, his fellow Castle members, were streaming out of the cabin. Veronica heard their shouts of alarm, and so did Schuler. He looked back at the cabin, then tucked his weapon in his suit jacket and disappeared into the woods. In the distance, Veronica heard sirens screaming up the mountain road.

Veronica didn't move. What should she do? She felt paralyzed by indecision. She could get up and limp to where Vinnie and Deputy Sachs were undoubtedly trying to put out the flames from her Saturn before the entire forest burnt to a crisp. They would be relieved to see her alive, even Vinnie. And they would listen to her story about Schuler and Gory and this entire terrible night. More enticing still, they would take her home, to her own soft bed. But without evidence, without Tess Rosenswag to confirm the facts, how could they arrest Schuler for his crimes?

Veronica looked at Rosenswag's handbag lying at her side. Tess had said there was evidence inside. Veronica unzipped the purse and rummaged through the contents, but aside from the usual debris of chewed pens, crinkled receipts and old gum wrappers, there was nothing but the woman's FBI credentials and a key ring.

Looking at Tess' photo and badge, Veronica made a snap decision. Schuler couldn't be allowed to get away with this. So Veronica stood on shaky legs and limped towards where Tess had indicated her car was parked. Veronica just hoped Schuler hadn't rigged Tess' car with explosives as well.

**************

THE NEXT DAY:

"This is Martina Vasquez, reporting live from the La Jolla overlook," the pretty brunette newscaster stood in front of a bright yellow X-Terra, its driver-side door hanging wide open. The Pacific Ocean stretched out in the distance, vast and endless. Martina had to shout to be heard over the noise of the waves breaking on the cliffs below.

"Last night, Channel Nine brought you news of the horrific car bombing at Lake Morena. A young woman was killed in the blast before her murderer took his own life. Now, it is my sad duty to report another tragedy closely connected to this terrible crime."

Martina gestured to the X-Terra. "This car is registered to the victim's longtime boyfriend, Logan Echolls. Logan, the son of deceased film icon Aaron Echolls, has been missing since he left the hospital early this morning. Logan was treated for minor injuries after witnessing the car bomb that took his girlfriend's life. Apparently, he came here."

The camera zoomed in over Martina's left shoulder. "You can see in the distance the Coronado Bridge, where Logan's mother, famous actress Lynn Lester, committed suicide just three years ago. Did her only son follow in his mother's footsteps and jump from these very cliffs? Sheriff's deputies are still searching for answers," Martina finished with grave sincerity. Veronica hated her.

The young PI switched off the television. She was seated on a stained bedspread in a cheap hotel just outside of San Diego. A cockroach the size of her thumb scuttled across the bathroom sink, but this was the only place Veronica could afford with what little cash Tess Rosenswag had left behind in her purse.

Veronica didn't care about the quality of her accommodations. She hung her head in hands, tears staining her cheeks. "Oh Logan, how could you?" she whispered.


	30. Chapter 30

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars. Warning kids, the following chapter may offend your Puritan sensibilities. If you don't want to read about Logan and Veronica's happy reunion, avert your eyes and wait for the next chapter.

**CHAPTER THIRTY**

_**FOUR HOURS EARLIER:**_

Logan wandered to the edge of the cliffs, to a low stone wall surrounded the overlook. He put one foot on top of the wall and hesitated. He was drunk. He should wait until he was sober and could think more clearly. Except that Veronica would still be dead. A sob escaped his chest and he quickly scrambled all the way up onto the wall.

"FUCK!" He screamed into the open air. He dropped the empty bottle of whiskey and watched it fall into the waves below. "FUCK!"

"Those have to be the least inspired last words ever. I know you can do better than that."

Logan whipped around in surprise. A loose stone gave out from under him and tumbled down the rocky precipice. Logan hovered in the air, his arms windmilling dangerously.

Someone in a hooded sweatshirt darted forward and grabbed his belt, pulling him to safety. He toppled from the wall onto his rescuer, and they both went down hard. They lay in the gravel, winded from the sudden fall.

Veronica's hood slid back, and for the first time since he had lost her, Logan felt tears come to his eyes. In fact, he found himself sobbing uncontrollably as waves of emotion tore through him. Surprise, relief, anger, but most of all… love.

"Hey, none of that." She whispered in his ear. She stroked his hair and kissed his tears. "I'm the one who should be mad. What were you thinking?"

Logan was crying too hard to say anything. He felt as though an iron band encircled his chest, his lungs gasping for air. Talking was impossible, so he kissed her passionately, fiercely. He touched her hair and fingered her lips as though unsure he could trust his eyes to tell him the truth.

"Don't you ever pull a stunt like this again. Ever." Veronica scolded him. She held his shoulders and head to her chest, rocking him softly in her arms. "Shh. Shh. It's okay. We're both okay."

"Where the hell have you been?" Logan finally managed. "Who was in your car?"

"I'll tell you everything, but we've got to get out of here." Veronica wiggled out from under Logan and stood up, offering him her hand. Logan gazed up at her, hardly daring to believe this could be real. Maybe he had fallen from the cliffs, after all. Maybe this was the hand of an angel, reaching down to him from heaven. He took it gladly.

*****************

The camera zoomed in over Martina's left shoulder. "You can see in the distance the Coronado Bridge, where Logan's mother, famous actress Lynn Lester committed suicide just three years ago. Did her only son follow in his mother's footsteps and jump from these very cliffs? Sheriff's deputies are still searching for answers," Martina finished with grave sincerity. Veronica hated her.

The young PI switched off the television. She was seated on a stained bedspread in a cheap hotel just outside of San Diego. A cockroach the size of her thumb scuttled across the bathroom sink, but this was the only place Veronica could afford with what little cash Tess Rosenswag had left behind in her purse.

Veronica didn't care about the quality of her accommodations. She hung her head in hands and cried. "Oh Logan, how could you?" she whispered.

Logan smiled at her, but his eyes were still red from crying. "What doesn't kill me makes me suicidal."

Veronica shoved him in the chest, hard. "Nietzsche never said that, and neither should you!" she shouted angrily.

Logan grabbed her around the middle and pulled her down to lie on the motel bed beside him. "I know you're mad, but I'm just happy you're alive," he laughed in her ear. He gently brushed her hair aside and kissed up and down the length of her neck.

Her anger lessened somewhat as she regarded the pure joy in his eyes. "I'm not really mad. But I was scared I might lose you," she sighed.

"One sympathizes," Logan teased.

Veronica smacked him with a pillow. "I said I'm sorry!"

"And-?" Logan prompted.

Veronica rolled her eyes. "And I promise not to go after scary criminals all by myself."

"Ever," Logan told her firmly.

Veronica kissed his bruised jaw. "Did you get this from the car bomb?" she asked. "Because it looks more like a shoeprint."

Logan rubbed his battered face self-consciously. "Yeah, well… I might have accidentally walked into Weevil's boot. Five or six times."

Veronica looked at him quizzically, then lifted his shirt over his head. "Oh Logan!" she gasped, studying the large purple welts forming on his rib cage. "Weevil was at the hospital?"

"He came to see your dad. Express his condolences. Kick my ass for not protecting you better." Logan gave her a half-hearted grin. "Not that I blame him."

Veronica groaned. "My dad. Is he okay? Was he hurt in the blast? I tried to get into the hospital, but Schuler was camped out in the lobby, selling his load of B.S. to the press."

"Your dad…" Logan hesitated. "Will be fine once he knows you're alive and well. Is that going to be anytime soon?"

"I don't know. Agent Rosenswag said she had evidence that would tie Schuler to the Sorokins, but I can't find anything incriminating in her bag. So until I can get Schuler and the Sorokins behind bars, I'm better off dead. Or at least pretending to be dead."

"Hmm. You must be the most snuggly corpse in the world," Logan mused.

Veronica laughed. "Do you have many points of comparison?"

He ignored her verbal jab and threw his shoe at another cockroach. "And you're sure I can't upgrade us to a better hideout? One without mutant bugs?"

"Yuck. Unfortunately, I think Schuler might be watching your credit cards, just in case you resurface somewhere. I would, if I were him," Veronica told Logan. "So it's cash only for awhile, and you'll just have to rough it in something less than a five star hotel suite."

Logan rolled on top of the petite blonde and kissed her tenderly. His lips lingered on hers, then trailed down past her collar. She shivered when he slipped his hand under her shirt. "I'm happy wherever you are," he assured her.

"Ditto," she breathed. Her pupils dilated with erotic pleasure as his long fingers unfastened her jeans and found their way further in. Veronica felt light-headed and dizzy, but this time it had nothing to do with her injured leg. Logan carefully slipped off her ruined jeans, dismayed at all the blood.

"What happened?" he asked, eying the gruesome wound.

"I may have accidentally run into Gory's knife," Veronica said lightly, echoing Logan's earlier words.

Logan frowned. "Is there any first aid supplies here?"

"I think in the car trunk, but I should warn you- nothing you can do to make me feel better involves you leaving this bed for the next hour."

"Patience, bobcat." Logan told her. He kissed her bare skin just above her lacey panties, eliciting another shiver of pleasure. He grinned, then grabbed the car keys from the nightstand and headed out the door.

"Tease," Veronica scolded him breathlessly.

Logan returned seconds later with an emergency kit in hand. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that Veronica had removed the rest of her clothing. In a stunning upset, however, his cerebral cortex narrowly defeated his limbic system. Harnessing all of his willpower, he ignored her suggestive poses and went instead to the room's chipped bathroom sink. He ran a towel under warm water before returning to her on the bed. Ever so gently, he washed off the blood and dirt as best he could, paying special attention to her small breasts and between her legs. Veronica moaned and helped Logan out of his pants, but he caught her wrists when she went for his boxers.

"First thing first," he told her firmly, and laid her back on the bed. Logan methodically disinfected the deep cut on Veronica's leg, then wrapped it with gauze and tape. His hands lingered on her inner-thigh, stroking her lightly. "You need stitches."

"Later," Veronica said, and pulled him closer to her.


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars.

**CHAPTER THIRTYONE**

Logan awoke the next morning aching all over, feeling the aftermath of too much booze and a sagging motel mattress. Despite his physical discomfort, Logan was sure that at this moment, he was the happiest man on the planet. Bright morning light snuck past the faded curtains, as if the weather gods had decided to join in Logan's private celebration.

Veronica was alive. Very much alive, Logan recalled from last night. He felt a pleasurable stiffness in his groin as he remembered the couple's happy reunion. Logan smiled with contentment. He had everything he ever wanted lying next to him. His eyes still shut, Logan let his hand wander over to Veronica's side of the bed.

Suddenly, his eyes flew open. The bed was empty, apart from Logan. "Veronica?" he called out.

There was no answer, not even the scuttle of a cockroach to break the morning silence. Logan jumped out of bed, stark naked. He ran into the bathroom, but Veronica wasn't there. On the nightstand, Tess Rosenswag's car keys were still sitting next to the first aid kit. Wherever she was, Veronica hadn't driven there.

"Veronica?!" Logan shouted again in panic. Had he imagined last night? Had his drunken brain fooled him into believing he had spent the evening making love to the woman of his dreams? Was Veronica really dead after all?

Logan frantically pulled on his jeans and rushed for the motel room door. He didn't bother with shoes or a shirt; he had to get outside. He had to find Veronica. He threw the door open and charged into the chill morning air, blinking in the bright sunshine. "VERONICA!" he bellowed.

Before he'd gone three steps, he collided with a much smaller figure. The two teetered in an unsteady embrace, but they managed to keep from falling down the stairs. "Logan, what's the matter? Is Schuler here? Did he find us?" Veronica asked in a hushed whisper.

Logan stared at her, mouth gaping. "You're alive."

"Logan! We covered this yesterday, of course I'm alive!"

Logan was breathing heavily, hyperventilating. He doubled over, his hands on his knees. "When I woke up, you weren't there. I thought… I thought…" his voice caught in his throat; he couldn't finish.

"Okay, it's okay sweetheart. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Veronica held him tight while he recovered his composure. "Let's go inside, we don't want to be seen out here."

Logan took a deep breath and straightened up. He wiped the tell-tale moisture from his eyes, then took Veronica's hand in his. As they retreated back to their sanctuary, he noticed the plastic sack she carried.

"You went to the drug store?" Logan asked. "Does your leg hurt?"

"A little, but I was more concerned with the essentials: toothpaste, food, etcetera." She set her purchases on the battered card table flanked by mismatched chairs.

"Food!" Logan dived enthusiastically into the bag and retrieved a box of powdered donuts.

"Enjoy it. That represents the last of our cash your scarfing down."

"All of it? How much do they charge for donuts these days?" Logan studied the itemized receipt. "What's Plan B?"

"The plan between A and C."

"Har har." Suddenly, Logan's eyes widened in understanding. He searched the plastic shopping sack and came up with a small orange pharmaceutical container. "The Morning After pill?"

Veronica shrugged. "We didn't use protection last night. Better safe than sorry."

"Decided against the que sera, sera method of birth control? Whatever will be, will be?"

"I don't think Doris Day was referring to unplanned pregnancy."

Logan looked at the medication thoughtfully, then set it on the table without further comment. Veronica sighed internally. She didn't know what was going through her boyfriend's head these days.

"Go shower. You smell like bacon, and not in a good way," Veronica told him.

"It's not my fault you've got standards," he griped, but he shoved another donut in his mouth and headed into the bathroom.

Veronica waited until she heard running water, then quickly downed the small yellow tablet. One benefit of hiding out at the Ponderosa Pines Motel was the abundance of hookers who frequented the place. The pharmacist up the block hadn't even bothered with a moral lecture or knowing smirk before handing Veronica the emergency contraception she requested.

By the time Logan emerged from the shower, Veronica had emptied the contents of Agent Rosenswag's bag and was carefully inspecting each item. "Find anything that'll help us nail that bastard Schuler?" he asked.

Veronica shoved the small pile of debris away and ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "Nothing," she said in a glum tone. "I don't understand. Tess told me all the evidence we needed was in this purse."

Logan picked up a gum wrapper and examined both sides. "She wouldn't have hid the information in something really small, like a microdot?"

"I don't think microdots have been used since the cold war. Besides, I'm sure Tess would keep it low-tech. She was on the run, she didn't have access to fancy equipment." Veronica drummed her fingers impatiently on the tabletop. "Today is Sunday. We have until tomorrow afternoon to figure this out, then Schuler is skipping town for good. No way will he return to the FBI after this; he'll take his payoff from Lev Sorokin and go underground. We'll never catch him then."

"Tomorrow afternoon? How do you know Schuler is leaving then?" Logan asked.

"Because that's when our funerals are being held," Veronica answered grimly.

She gestured to the television flickering silently on the dilapidated bureau. It was tuned to Channel Nine news, and Logan saw his own photograph superimposed above Martina Vasquez's shoulder. He turned up the volume so they could hear what the reporter was saying.

"Early this morning, Balboa County Sheriff Vinnie Van Lowe closed the missing person investigation of Logan Echolls and officially declared his death a suicide."

Logan and Veronica watched as Deputy Sachs and Cliff McCormick escorted Veronica's father through the hospital doors and into a waiting car. "No comment," Cliff growled at the mob of paparazzi.

"Logan, the youngest son of the infamous Echolls family, is thought to have jumped to his death from the La Jolla overlook Saturday evening after witnessing his girlfriend's murder the night before," Martina explained to her audience. The jostling cameras captured Keith's tear-stained face, still bruised and battered from Schuler's bomb.

"This man, Keith Mars, is that poor young woman's father. The former Neptune sheriff is something of a national celebrity himself after he accused Aaron Echolls of murdering Lilly Kane. Although Aaron was judged not-guilty by a jury of his peers, Mr. Mars wrote first-hand account detailing how he solved the case and rescued his daughter Veronica from being killed by Aaron like her friend Lilly." Martina paused for dramatic effect. "It's too bad he was unable to save his daughter this time."

"I really hate that woman," Veronica spat. "She's so phony. As if this isn't the biggest news story she'll cover all year."

"Retract claws, Bobcat," Logan shushed her. "She's doing us a favor, buying us extra time to investigate while Schuler thinks we're dead."

"That doesn't mean I'll let her interview me when we are magically resurrected," Veronica groused.

"Agreed. By the way, do you think a prodigal Lazarus such as myself will still have to take mid-term exams when we get back to Hearst?"

"Personally, I'm hoping the 'I was dead at the time' excuse will see me through."

Logan snickered. "Oh come on, like they haven't heard that one a million times. At least try for something original."

While the couple bantered, Martina Vasquez was wrapping up her news flash. "A private memorial service for Veronica Mars and Logan Echolls will be held Monday at two o'clock at St. Francis' church in Neptune," she finished.

Logan switched the TV off. "So you think Schuler will be at our funeral?"

Veronica nodded. "And I think he'll leave town afterward, never to be seen again."

"That doesn't give us much time to find this evidence Tess left behind."

Veronica's eyes raked the assortment of odds and ends from Rosenswag's handbag. Gum, a wallet, FBI credentials, an old peppermint candy wrapper, a plain ballpoint pen, and a couple wrinkled receipts.

"Where are those receipts from? Maybe she sent a package to herself?" Logan wondered.

"This one is for an EZ Mart on the PCH," Veronica read aloud. "Twenty bucks of gas and two jumbo hot dogs. I guess she had a strong stomach."

"That's for sure," Logan agreed. He glanced through the other receipt. "This one is from the Reel Video Rentals at Embarcadero Shopping Center. Looks like she complimented her gourmet feast with a night of Brad Pitt."

"There are worse ways to spend your last night on earth. Which movie did she rent?"

"_Troy_. There's just no accounting for taste."

Veronica nodded absently, then suddenly straightened in her chair. "Oh! Logan, what did everybody in the world learn from the story of Troy?"

"Beware of Greeks bearing gifts?"

"Right! Because things aren't always what they appear!" Veronica bounded from her seat and kissed Logan, her excitement at having solved Tess' riddle evident from the flush of her cheeks.

Logan grinned and pulled her into his lap, covered only by a thin motel towel. He was excited too, but it had nothing to do with the case. "You realize I have no idea what you're talking about," he whispered in her ear.

"That's alright; I mostly keep you around for your looks anyway," Veronica teased, kissing him again on his neck and jaw.

"I can live with that."


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Veronica Mars, or You've Got Mail (which contains one of the most romantic scenes ever, thus why I used it as a basis here).

**CHAPTER THIRTYTWO**

Keith Mars sat on his sofa, barely aware of his burnt hands and face. The pain in his heart hurt so much worse. His little girl was gone, killed right in front of his own eyes. What had he done? What kind of a father lets his baby girl get involved in the private investigation business? All those years ago, Alicia Fennel had warned him it was too dangerous for a teenager, but Keith was too proud to listen. He had really believed that, between the two of them, he and Veronica could handle anything. Now Veronica was dead. And even though it was Gory Sorokin's hands that done the deed, Keith felt he could only blame himself.

The craziest thing was that there was some small part of Keith that expected to see Veronica again soon. Rationally, he knew it wasn't possible. He had watched her die. But every knock on the door, every phone call, gave Keith hope that someday he would answer and find his little girl, his Veronica waiting to come home.

Agent Schuler from the FBI was obviously wondering about the circumstances of Veronica's death as well. "Here, take the edge off." Schuler handed Keith a glass of whiskey.

"Thanks," It was only ten o'clock in the morning, but Keith accepted gratefully. Keith was already dressed for the funeral; nothing fancy, just the standard dark suit and tie. Alicia and Wallace had dropped in the day before, when Keith was released from the hospital. Alicia had fluttered around the apartment, pressing his dress shirt and stocking the refrigerator with microwaveable meals. Keith couldn't decide which was worse, Alicia's attempts to cheer him up, or Wallace's shell-shocked expression. He was glad when they left.

Backup limped over to his master and lay his head down with a soft whimper. Drool smeared Keith's polished shoes, but he didn't mind. Keith gently scratched behind the dog's ears. "I know, boy. I miss her too."

Schuler seated himself in the overstuffed chair opposite Keith. He also held a glass, but his contained water. Still on duty, Keith noted absently. "So, no word from Veronica? No hidden messages or anything that might indicate she may be alive somehow?" Schuler asked.

"No. There's been nothing, no communication. I thought when Logan disappeared, that might be a good sign, that maybe they were hiding out together somewhere, but…" Keith sighed and shook his head. "Honestly, jumping is something Logan would do."

"And you're sure it was Veronica in the explosion?" Schuler pressed.

"I know what I saw. Believe me, I wish I hadn't." Keith looked up hopefully from his drink. "Why? What makes you think she could still be alive?"

"I don't," Schuler rushed to correct him. "And I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. It's not fair to let you think there's a chance Veronica could be alive, when really…"

"Yeah. I get it." The words came out more bitter than Keith had intended.

After a brief, uncomfortable pause, Schuler continued. "I don't think Veronica is alive. But it's likely that she found evidence linking my ex-partner Tess Rosenswag to the Sorokin family. I worry that Tess may come here looking to clean up her mistakes. Did Veronica say anything to you about a corrupt FBI agent?"

"No. She mentioned Agent Rosenswag's disappearance, but she didn't say anything to me about any evidence." Keith looked down to the floor and mumbled, "Maybe Logan knew more."

They sat in the dimly lit room, neither sure what to say next. Finally Schuler stood and offered Keith his card. "Well, call me if you see or hear anything. Especially if Agent Rosenswag tries to contact you." Schuler slipped on his sports jacket and straightened his tie. "She's dangerous, Keith. Double agents play a risky game. They don't like to leave behind any unnecessary loose ends."

Keith also stood and shook the other man's hand. "Thank you, Agent Schuler. I'll be careful."

Schuler opened the front door, intending to exit, but his way was blocked by a body falling into the apartment. Schuler shouted in alarm and immediately drew his weapon. He trained it on the dark-suited intruder laying on the floor, but Keith hustled to diffuse the situation.

"Don't shoot. It's Logan's roommate, Dick Casablancas," Keith explained. He knelt next to the younger man and turned him onto his back. A strong odor of stale beer and liquor wafted from the blond surfer, and Dick groaned.

Schuler holstered his gun and rolled his eyes. "I'll see you later, at the funeral," he told Keith as he stepped around Dick's prone form.

Keith sighed and hoisted Dick by his armpits, dragging him to the sofa. "Come on, son. You know you're done when the floor won't stop spinning."

Dick groaned again and pulled a nearly empty flask from the pocket of his rumpled suit jacket. "I'm drinking for two. Logan would've wanted it this way. No half-assed eulogies and phony mushiness, just a good send off."

Keith deftly snagged the flask away. "Logan would have wondered what you're doing here."

"Hey!" Dick protested. "That stuff is expensive!"

"Oh yeah?" Keith took a long pull from the flask, finishing off the contents. He wiped his hand across his mouth. "You're right, that is pretty good."

Dick stared at the former Sheriff, then started laughing drunkenly. "You're okay, Mr. Mars. I always liked you. You're funny, like Veronica."

"That's nice, Dick. Unfortunately, my scathing sarcasm and rapier wit are lost on you because you've gone and drunk yourself stupid. What are you doing here?" Keith asked again.

"The funeral is this afternoon," Dick said.

"Yes, I know."

"I needed to borrow a tie, and I figured Logan didn't need his anymore."

"Uh-huh…"

"And I found something. In Logan's room." Dick looked a little confused by whatever it was that he saw.

Keith's heart started pounding, and he felt a double-edged stab of excitement and regret. Veronica had been staying with Logan while she investigated the Sorokin family. Had Dick found the evidence Schuler was searching for? Would this connect Tess Rosenswag to the Sorokins? "You did a good thing, Dick, coming to me with this. I'll make sure it gets to the right people."

"No. I want you to have it," Dick said belligerently. Then he belched loudly.

"Dick, I don't think-" Keith started, but Dick cut him off.

"Logan's sister called and said she'd pick up his stuff after the funeral. At least she's coming to this one," Dick growled. "But Trina shouldn't get this. Logan would've given it to Veronica. So you should have it."

Now Keith was confused. "Dick, what did you find?" Instead of answering, Logan's friend fished in his jacket pocket again and pulled out a small velvet box. He tossed it to Keith, who exhaled sharply when he saw what was inside. "A ring?"

Reclining on the couch, Dick shrugged awkwardly and stared vacantly at the ceiling. "I know, right? Didn't see that one coming."

*************

"So you think Tess replaced the DVD she rented from the video store with evidence of Schuler and Lev Sorokin's deal?" Logan clarified.

Veronica nodded. "Just like a Trojan horse, that DVD case has a surprise hidden inside, I'm sure of it."

They were parked across from Reel Video Rentals, waiting for the store to open. The phone book in their motel room had listed their hours of operation from noon until midnight, Monday through Saturday. The young couple was cutting it close; their funeral started in two hours. After that, their hopes of catching the corrupt Agent Schuler would be as dead as Veronica and Logan were supposed to be. But until the rental store opened, there was nothing to do but wait.

The minutes ticked by, and Veronica wiggled in her seat impatiently. "It's a quarter after. They should be open by now. At this rate, we're going to be late to our own funeral."

Logan, however, was lost in thought. If all went well, by the end of the day he and Veronica would return to their regularly scheduled lives. Logan wasn't sure how he felt about that. "Do you remember yesterday when you said 'better safe than sorry'? About the Morning After pill?"

"Yes..?" Veronica prompted.

Logan studied her face intently. "Would you? Be sorry?"

Veronica froze, shocked by what she was hearing. She knew Logan had enjoyed taking care of little Joey Fitzpatrick, but surely he wasn't suggesting… "What are you saying?" she asked cautiously.

"Sometimes I wonder… if I hadn't been Logan Echolls, obligatory psychotic jackass, and you hadn't been Veronica Mars, intrepid PI. If you and I had just… _met_…"

"Yeah. I know."

"Yeah, well. I would have asked for your number," Logan said softly. "And I wouldn't have been able to wait twenty-four hours before calling you up and saying, 'how about coffee, or a movie… for as long as we both shall live?'"

"Logan-"

"-and you and I would never have been at war. And the only thing we would ever fight about is which restaurant to order take out from on a Tuesday night."

Veronica smiled and brushed away the unexpected tears stinging her eyes. "Well who fights about that?"

"Some people. But not us."

"We would never."

The darkening clouds broke open and rain pattered down on the car, running down the windshield in silver sheets. Looking out from the inside, everything appeared distorted and surreal. Blurry people scurried for the shelter of nearby sidewalk awnings and cozy cafes. Logan waited for Veronica to answer his proposal, but she remained silent.

Finally the store manager unlocked his doors, open for business. Veronica gathered Tess Rosenswag's purse and the video rental receipt and stepped out into the downpour. Logan caught hold of her arm, and their eyes met. "Veronica?"

"I love you," Veronica told him. "Whatever happens, don't doubt that."

***********

_**A/N: So there's only one or two chapters left… reviewers, I'm looking for some feedback before I start the next "episode" in the series. For example, is this story too long/too short? Is the tone too serious/too light? Is there too much/not enough LoVe? Do the other characters make enough appearances, or should they figure more into the next episode?**_

_**Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to review! This was my first FanFic, and it's really been fun! Your encouragement has kept me going, and thanks to you I'll definitely be coming back to post more. Cheers, friends!**_


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